Blood and Water
by Patchfire
Summary: A response to Severitus' Challenge. Severus Snape hated James Potter, and he hates Harry Potter as well... right? Slash, first Harry/Justin, later Harry/Draco. BnW is now complete.
1. Birthdays and Letters

_This is a response to Severitus' Challenge. I've had a couple of ideas bouncing around in my head for a couple of weeks now, and I finally figured out how to tie them all together, and this lovely little work is the result. It's going to progress relatively slowly, not quickly, but, hey, I've gotten three chapters done & a couple more partially done.  
  
Disclaimer: None of the characters belong to me, not a one. Nothing Harry Potter, in fact, belongs to me. Nor do I completely own the plot, since this is in response to a challenge. Hmm. Well, so this isn't mine at all. :-)_  
  
  
Harry Potter was awake. It wasn't surprising, really, because it was nearly midnight, and at midnight, he would be fifteen years old. It was a ritual that had started on his eleventh birthday, four years in the past now, and he was awake each year to welcome in the new year of his life. Just after midnight, owls would arrive, bearing birthday gifts from his friends. Harry was certain that this year would be no exception. He studied the old digital clock. It now read 11:55. Sighing, Harry sat up and pushed his glasses back into position. He went to the window and peered out, looking into the dark, moonless sky for some sign of any owls. He stood silently for a few moments, lost in the night, before he looked back to the clock. It was 11:59, and now Harry could see the approaching shadowy shapes that were owls.  
  
Hedwig swooped in, followed by Pig, Ron's owl, as well as five unfamiliar owls. One by one, Harry removed the letters and packages from them, sending them each off to Hedwig's cage for water and an owl treat or two. Harry smiled as he petted Hedwig, welcoming her back home. She had been gone for several days, and he had missed her, the only friend he had when he was at the Dursleys'. Each owl relieved of its burden, Harry began to open each letter and package.  
  
The first was from Ron. Harry smiled as he read the familiar handwriting and let Ron's cheerful attitude wash over him through his written words.  
  
  
_Harry,  
  
I hope the Muggles are treating you alright. Happy Fifteenth Birthday! There are two gifts for you; the first is a PortKey which will be activated at noon today (your birthday). Dumbledore finally gave the all-clear to have you come visit. Consequently, the rest of your present will wait until you arrive here. I know that you had a bad experience with PortKeys last time, but Dad programmed this one himself just now, as I'm writing this letter.  
  
See you soon!  
Ron_  
  
  
Harry grinned happily as he pulled out a Muggle credit card. He laughed quietly – leave it to Mr. Weasley to choose something purely Muggle! He probably had no idea what it was, either, Harry decided. Still smiling, he reached for the package that Hedwig had brought back from Hermione, who still had no owl of her own.  
  
  
_Dear Harry,  
  
Happy Birthday! I do hope this reaches you on your birthday; I know that Hedwig has a long way to go. I'm having a fascinating time here in Bulgaria. There is so much history to learn and Viktor has an outstanding library in his town. As for Viktor himself, well, we're not getting along so well. He's a nice enough guy, I suppose, but he's much more full of himself here than he was at Hogwarts, and he keeps trying to kiss me. I'm just not interested in him in quite that way, and he is a good deal older.  
  
I should be back in England in a week or so, and then hopefully I can come to the Burrow for the last week or two of break. I'll see you in Diagon Alley!  
  
Love from,  
Hermione  
  
_  
Harry picked up the heavy package, and was not surprised when it was revealed to be two books. The books, however, were considerably more interesting than he had anticipated. The first was a guide to becoming an animagus (a small piece of parchment indicated that the laws were much more lax about animagi in Bulgaria, hence Hermione's ability to purchase said book), while the second was a large, comprehensive tome on Defence Against the Dark Arts. Hermione's note with that book indicated that it was written by respected Aurors and that it would undoubtedly help to know some counter-curses, between Voldemort and Malfoy. Harry agreed, and resolved to find time to study it at the Burrow, despite the teasing he knew it would engender from Ron.  
  
He reached for one of the unfamiliar packages next, and laughed when he discovered quite a selection of Wheezes from Fred and George. They also informed Harry that he was listed as an anonymous shareholder in their business venture, and, as such, was entitled to a percentage of any and all profits. The money would be sent to a Gringotts vault to which they had enclosed the key. Harry carefully hid the key in his trunk, along with the letter.  
  
Four strange owls to go, mused Harry. He assumed that one was his school letter and another was from Sirius, but he couldn't figure out whom the others were from.  
  
One question was answered when he opened another package with slightly familiar writing. The enclosed book was from Professor Lupin, with a note that he would be returning to Hogwarts as the Defence Against the Dark Arts professor that fall, and he wanted to offer Harry the chance to have additional, private lessons in the evenings, and he felt the enclosed book would help to that end. Smiling, Harry placed the large book next to Hermione's, noticing that Professor Lupin's was not strictly about Defence, but was rather directly about the Dark Arts. Hmm. Well, if Professor Lupin thought it was fine, then it probably was.  
  
The next package was indeed from his godfather, and it enclosed a refill for his broom servicing kit, as well new Quidditch pads, which Harry desparately needed. Harry was also pleased to recover the Marauders' Map. Curiously, he activiated it, and saw that Mr. Filch, Mrs. Norris, and the Headmaster were the only occupants of Hogwarts currently in residence. Curiousity satisified, he cleared the map and returned it to his trunk.  
  
There were now two owls left, and it looked as if both were from Hogwarts. Odd, thought Harry, and he reached first for the one that seemed to contain the usual greetings and supply list. Indeed, it did, and he smiled to see that Hermione's gift turned out to be their Defence Against the Dark Arts text. If both Hermione and Professor Lupin had picked it out, it was probably a very good book on the subject indeed. He scanned the rest of the supply list and noticed with some displeasure that they were once against expected to have dress robes, and their required potions stores had been expanded considerably, which interested Harry even as it made him groan inwardly. Surely that only meant more opportunities for Gryffindor to lose points, especially since Neville managed to mess up even the most simple of potions, and Professor Snape merely had it in for Harry no matter what Harry tried.  
  
Now, it was nearly 12:45, and Harry still had one more bulky letter to open. He pulled out the parchment and read the words with shock.  
  
  
  
_Dear Mr. Potter,  
  
As Head of Gryffindor House, it is my pleasure to inform you that you have been selected as one of the prefects for the 1995-1996 school year, along with Ronald Weasley and Hermione Granger. Enclosed please find your badge as well as a list of responsibilities and the first password of the year. You will be expected to make an appearance in the prefects' cars during your ride on the Hogwarts Express for the first prefects' meeting of the year.  
  
Additionally, you have been selected as the Gryffindor Quidditch Captain. Your teammates all took pains to write me over the summer, threatening not to accept the position if I were to offer it, as they all felt you should have it. I do hope you will accept the honor; otherwise I will be forced to retain the captaincy myself as Head of Gryffindor House, and I simply do not have the time that would be necessary.  
  
Minerva McGonagall,  
Head, Gryffindor House_  
  
  
Harry reached back into the envelope and pulled out two pins – the larger prefect's badge and the smaller Captain's pin. Harry noted with pleasure that the Captain's pin had the Snitch featured prominently, to show that he played Seeker. Even though he knew that the new positions would bring even more unwanted attention, he felt honored and proud, knowing that his parents would have been proud as well. Smiling, he took just a moment before going to sleep to write back to Sirius.  
  
_  
Dear Snuffles',  
  
Glad to hear that everything is going well on your work for Dumbledore. Remember to keep out of sight!  
  
I thought you'd be pleased to know that I've been named Captain of the Quidditch Team for next year. Not only that, but Ron, Hermione, and I are all prefects! We're going to have such fun. I... well, I was thinking, right after I read the letter, that my parents would have been proud. I'm right, aren't I?  
  
Love,  
Harry  
  
_  
He yawned as he sent the owl off through the window, back to wherever Sirius was staying. He sent all the other owls back as well, except Hedwig, who would fly towards the Burrow in the morning. Finally, he laid down and let sleep claim him, absentmindly brushing a long strand of hair out of his face without realising his hair hadn't been that long previously.  
  
  
  
By the time that Harry woke up the next morning, he noticed that his hair was a good two inches longer than he remembered it being. Not only that, but it was acutally lying flat. Frowning, Harry pushed it back from his face and tucked as much as possible behind his ears before heading downstairs to breakfast.  
  
Good morning, Aunt Petunia, Uncle Vernon, he said in a pleasant tone. My friends have agreed to let me come stay with them for the rest of the summer, so you won't have to worry about me being here when you have your cocktail party next week, Aunt Petunia.  
  
Petunia Dursley beamed. She didn't care if it meant her dratted nephew would be happy, _she_ wouldn't have to worry about him being around her house and her son. Oh, Vernon, did you hear that? Those dreadful people are going to take the boy off our hands. Eleven months without him! Her tone changed abruptly as she turned her attention back to Harry. Very well. Now, fix that bacon for Dudders!'  
  
Harry complied, carefully frying the bacon and poaching several eggs for the Dursley family, then washing all the dishes at the conclusion of the meal. Uncle Vernon had already left for work, and Aunt Petunia informed Harry that she and Dudley were going shopping that morning. I want you to vacuum the entire downstairs, she lectured, and wash the floor in here and in the mud room. We'll be back after two; we have to go into the city. Harry smirked to himself as the door closed behind her. He decided to give the floors a cursory vacuuming, and wiped up the obvious spots on the tiled floor before he headed upstairs to pack his things. He emptied out the hiding place under the cupboard, and placed his completed homework, candy stash, and birthday presents into his school trunk, leaving only his wand and the PortKey out. Harry wasn't about to use a PortKey without his wand, whatever MInistry regulations about under-age magic might say.  
  
Twelve hours after he had last examined the clock which such scrutiny, Harry watched the hour approach noon. When the clock switched to reading 12:00, Harry sat on top his trunk, clutching his wand and Hedwig's cage in one hand, and reached out for the PortKey with the other. He felt the now-familiar tug at his navel and soon found himself deposited unceremoniously in the garden at the Burrow. It was suspiciously silent, and Harry rose to his feet quietly, leaving his trunk and the cage where they had dropped. Wand at the ready, Harry approached the back door with no little trepidation.   
  
He cautiously opened the back door and slid inside, wand held high as he scanned the room. Nothing seemed amiss. Taking a chance, he raised his voice. Hello? Ron? Mrs. Weasley? His words echoed in the large house, and no answer was forthcoming, leaving Harry uncertain as to what he should do. On the one hand, there could be something seriously wrong, and the quicker he searched the house, the faster he could inform someone that the Weasleys seemed to have disappeared. On the other hand, the Burrow was large, with many rooms, not to mention that Harry was uncomfortable with searching the bedrooms of most of the Weasleys. Finally, he remembered the clock in their living room, and went to the adjoining door, so he could see what the clock had to say about where the Weasleys might be.  
  
The door had just begun to swing open, Harry's wand still held high, when he heard a rustling noise just before he heard a chorus of Weasleys yelling Happy Birthday! Harry was sufficiently shocked that this first reaction was to throw out in the direction of the noise, even as the yelling started.  
  
Harry said sheepishly, as he noticed with some chagrin that he had just stunned one of the Weasleys twins. I, er, I think I'm just a bit jumpy about surprises.  
  
Ron's face was mortified. Oh, gods, Harry, I'm sorry. I didn't even think...  
  
Don't worry about it, Harry cut him off. It's my fault.  
  
No, it's not, the now-revived twin said. We shouldn't have done this. Mum tried to warn us, but we didn't take her seriously.  
  
What's going on, exactly? Charlie asked.  
  
I'm sorry! Harry exclaimed, mortified now. I just had an, er, bad experience with a PortKey the last time I used one, and then when no one was around, well, I assumed the worst.  
  
Good reflexes, Bill said with a smile. Assuming the worst keeps you alive in uncertain times. Nothing to be sorry about.  
  
Well, now that we're done with serious topics – I hope – tell me what happened to your hair, Harry, Ron said with a mock-glare. It's _flat_.  
  
I know! I just woke up this morning and it was longer and flatter. I don't know why, to be honest.  
  
Ron shrugged. C'mon, then, we've got presents! And Mum's out right now, but tonight there'll be cake and ice cream. Harry grinned, cheered by his friend's steady presence, and allowed himself to be led to a nearby armchair where he was firmly sat down as the Weasleys brought him gifts.  
  
Harry opened the proferred package from Ginny first, and found a generous supply of chocolate and other treats from Honeydukes, for which he thanked her profusely, noting with some displeasure that her cheeks still tended to tinge pink whenever he addressed her. Not that Harry didn't care for Ginny, but he held her in the same regard as Hermione, though he was not as close to Ginny: the regard and caring that one would have for a sister. He even felt some of the same overprotectiveness that Ron did for Ginny, but Harry knew better than to even try to be protective of Hermione.  
  
The next gift was from Fred and George, and was more of their products. Harry assumed that the gift was a cover for the one they had sent the previous night. Feeling extraordinarily loved, Harry's curiousity was piqued when Percy, Bill, and Charlie all presented him with one gift between the three of them. He slowly unwrapped it and gasped when he realised what it was – a Pensieve.  
  
I don't know if you know what that is– Bill began, but Harry cut him off with a nod.  
  
Yes. A Pensieve. I... saw one, in Dumbledore's office this past year. Thank you very much, he added quietly, awed by the thoughtfulness that had gone into this gift, even from the Weasleys that he knew the least well. Thank you, he repeated, carefully sitting his Pensieve to the side.  
  
Finally, he looked at Ron with a raised eyebrow. Ron grinned mischieviously. I couldn't wrap your present. And don't worry, I've cleared it with Dumbledore so you can take it to Hogwarts, even though normally it wouldn't be allowed. This made Harry even more curious, and he wondered what Ron's gift could be, as Ron left the room. He looked at the others, a questioning look on his face. They merely shrugged, obviously just as confused as he.  
  
Ron returned with a plain brown box with a lid set loosely on it. Go on, he urged. Look inside.  
  
Harry lifted the lid and gasped. Inside was an absolutely gorgeous coral snake. he spat out, speaking Parseltongue and barely noticing the gasps that came from the two eldest Weasley children. What'sss your name?  
  
I am Ananda, the snake replied. I am pleassed to meet the one whom I was purchassed for. It will be pleassant to have a masster with whom I can ssspeak.  
  
Are you male or female? Harry asked, the name not cluing him in.  
  
the snake replied. And poissonousss, but I understand I am not to attack unlesssss at your command.  
  
Grinning, Harry looked up at Ron. Her name's Ananda, he reported happily. She's great, Ron. Thanks.  
  
Bill and Charlie were staring at him, twin expressions of surprise on their faces. Harry sighed and turned to Ron. Ron, I take it that you've neglected to ever explain to your oldest brothers that I'm a Parselmouth?  
  
Ron hung his head sheepishly, Uh, yes. Hey guys? By the way, Harry's a Parselmouth.  
  
Thanks for enlightening us, Bill responded drily. We never would have figured that out otherwise.  
  
The rest of the Weasleys laughed, and Harry joined in, as he felt Ananda slither her way out of the box to wrap herself around his arm. Harry was almost certain that she was sending out waves of contentment, and Harry smiled widely to have his new friend comfortable.  
  
Dinner that night was a raucous affair. Mrs. Weasley kept trying to add more and more food to Harry's plate, and it was on her fifth trip back from the kitchen that she screamed.  
  
Harry! Don't move! There's a large snake in your lap!  
  
Harry looked up and bit his lip. Mrs. Weasley, it's just Ananda. She was a birthday present.  
  
A birthday present?!? Who would be foolish enough to buy you a large poisonous snake?  
  
Harry noticed with some amusement that Ron's ears were pink and he was studiously concentrating on his own plate.  
  
He _is_ a Parselmouth, Mum, George interceded on Harry's behalf. Harry says her name's Ananda and she's quite aware that she isn't to attack anyone unless Harry orders her to.  
  
Mrs. Weasley was still flustered. Harry, if you don't mind, could Ananda stay with your things during meal times?  
  
Of course, he replied quickly. She was just hungry today.  
  
Just hungry... she replied faintly. Well. Time for cake!  
  
  
  
  
Meanwhile, in another part of England, a werewolf named Remus Lupin sat in silent contemplation, rereading the letter in front of him for perhaps the one hundredth time since it had appeared in front of him that morning with his copy of the _Daily Prophet_. The letter had had a delayed delivery date placed on it, and the intended recipient hadn't necessarily been him. It was first to go to Sirius Black, if he was alive, then to Remus Lupin or Peter Pettigrew. As the wizarding world still believed Sirius to be guilty, and believed Peter to be dead, the letter had come to him, the handwriting like a ghost. Remus would've known that handwriting anywhere. Why had James written a letter that was supposed to be delayed in delivery until Harry's fifteenth birthday? Remus had thought. The answer had become frightfully clear as he read the letter.  
  
  
_Dear Marauder (for I can't be sure which of you will eventually recieve this),  
  
There are tales that must be told, in the interest of truth and fairness. At this moment, I am the only person who knows the full truth of what has happened in the past months and, to some extent, the past years, and it's only fair that the suspicions and lies end now.  
  
If you're reading this, then I am dead, and likely Lily is as well. I can only hope that the charm Lily found, in combination with Harry's own power, enabled him to survive. If he did not... well, then this letter is not needed.  
  
When we were in our fifth year, Dumbledore approached me after a prefects' meeting one day, asking me to assist him in a high-level bit of espionage involving Voldemort. I would be partnered with another operative, he informed me, and i was shocked to find out that my partner would be none other than Severus Snape.  
  
We overcame much our dislike for one another, and I can say now, five years later, that I count Sev as one of my closest friends and one of the few people with whom I would trust my life. Circumstances dictate, of course, that we remain enemies in public, and I do not doubt that he has made it plain that he detests all of us in the years between the year in which this was written and the one in which you are reading it. I also know that he will, more than likely, be forced to act as though he despises Harry as well.  
  
Sev and I were partnered together because our differences complemented each other, from our House characteristics to our strongest subjects. Eventually, however, it became necessary to act as though we were one operative, and we frequently used polyjuice potion and glamour spells to act as the other one of us. There were many times when I went to Death Eater meetings, as Severus, as I could easily transfigure objects to give us much needed information, without arousing any notice – something Sev would have had the utmost difficulty doing. On those occasions, Sev had to become James Potter, so that there would be no suspicions, and he had to act as if he were me, which went up to and included sleeping with Lily. I hated to trick Lily like that, but I trusted Sev with my life, and knew how reluctant he was to do that to both of us, but it had to be done.  
  
When Lily informed me she was pregnant, and on what timetable, I knew immediately that I could not be the father. I was afraid for Sev if he found out that he had a son, so I knew it had to be kept from him. Sev is a far braver man than any of us gave him credit for, and he would possibly have betrayed his role as a spy at this news. I urged Lily not to say anymore about the pregnancy, even to me, until she was showing, so that Sev would not be able to estimate the date of conception as I had done. It worked.  
  
Once the reality of Lily's pregnancy could no longer be hidden, I began to research ways to conceal the baby's true identity. Although Severus and I both have black hair, most of our resemblance ends there, and I feared that the true father of the baby would be all too apparent. After weeks of research, I hit on a combination of potions and charms that would do. I cast a simple illusion charm on Harry before he was even born, when Lily was asleep one night, so that his initial appearance would be similar to mine except for the green eyes. Then, a few weeks after he was born, I went into his room one night and removed the illusion . I was pleased to see that Harry _did _have Lily's green eyes, and that Sev and Lily had produced a remarkably attractive child. Sighing with the heavy weight of what I must do, I gave Harry the prepared potion, and cast the charm that would make Harry look like me, as if he were my son. I was pained to do that to my dear friend, but I knew that neither Sev nor Lily would be able to handle the news of Harry's parentage with alacrity.  
  
The effects of the potion and charm last for approximately fifteen years, which means that they are beginning to break down, on this, Harry's 15th birthday. By Halloween, they should be about halfway gone, and complete by mid-winter. In this way, some of the changes, at least, may be explained to others as a result of puberty. Still, I sincerely doubt that Sev's mind has gone, and I do not doubt that he will still be pretending to hate teaching at Hogwarts, so he will see the changes in Harry – his son – and will no doubt put two and two together.  
  
So, dear Marauder, Prongs is asking for one last favor from beyond the grave. Tell Sev about what I did, about his son, and encourage him to tell Harry. Harry deserves to know his father. I love Harry like my own, and consider him to be the son of my heart, even if he is not of my blood. Let Harry know that he is truly blessed to have two fathers, both of whom love him very much, for I know that Sev loves him even now, when he thinks that Harry is merely my son.   
  
I hope that Harry and Sev can forgive me, but I did what I thought was necessary at the time. We are in the middle of a war, after all, and ultimately victory had to be put ahead of my desires for my friend and Harry.  
  
Love,  
Prongs_  
  
  
Remus didn't know what to make of the letter. It was genuine Prongs, no doubt about that, and he could see his friend doing exactly as he stated in the letter. The direction was clear, no less, and Remus would have to tell Severus Snape that Harry Potter was his child. Despite James' reassurances in the letter that most of what the world saw was an act, Remus wasn't so sure, and he wondered at the Potions Master's response. Still, the next day was a pre-term staff meeting at Hogwarts, so Remus decided he would approach Snape afterwards for a private word.  



	2. Crashing Down/Flowing On

_A/N: Here we are, Harry happily continuing with life as usual, while Sev's world collapses, at least partially. Sev's in shock, major shock, but we love him anyway. :-)  
_  
  
The meeting drew to a close, and Remus quietly approached the other man. he said quietly. I need to talk to you privately.  
  
Snape sneered. What is it, now, werewolf?  
  
Remus' voice dropped even lower. I got a delayed delivery letter yesterday. From your former partner in ops.  
  
Snape's eyes widened. Come with me, he said in a whisper, and led his former classmate down to his private quarters. Once the door was shut firmly behind them, and silencing spells cast, he faced Remus, his expression wary but curious.   
  
As I said, I received a letter yesterday, from James. In it he... explains several things that I didn't know. He also explained something that no one else knew, but it involves you, and I think the best thing to do is for you to read the letter yourself. He reached inside his robes and pulled out the old piece of parchment, handing it carefully to Severus.  
  
Severus Snape read the words in disbelief. His mouth formed the word How long it had been since he had heard that nickname. In the beginning he had detested working with James Potter, but after less than a year, the two had become quite close. In many ways, James was the closest friend Severus had ever had, and he had never been able to even properly grieve. Only two or three others knew about their work together, and no one realised how close they become. To the rest of the world, they were enemies, or at best grudging allies. He had hated every time he had to betray his friend and sleep with his wife, and he had thanked the heavens many times during those hard years that nothing had ever come of it, because he would have been driven mad with the knowledge that he would not be able to care for his own child.  
  
Severus Snape had actually always wanted a child, but he had never found a woman willing to be his wife, even it it had been a safe thing to do, and Severus refused to have a child deliberately with someone who was not his wife. But now, as he read, he discovered that he did have a child. He had a son, the boy that he acted like he despised, when in actuality he had always considered himself to be like a second (or third, considering the status of the werewolf in Sirius Black's eyes) godfather to the boy, and he had watched out for him as best he could. But now... Harry was his son?  
  
When Severus Snape finished the letter and laid it on the table, he was shocked to realise that he was crying. He was crying, he reflected, for so many things. For James, his kind, dear friend, with the large Gryffindor heart, who had taken Sev's child into his heart and raised him as his own to protect them all. For Lily, who had been deceived again and again. For Harry, who lived as an orphan, with Lily's horrible Muggle sister, thinking his parents were dead. And for himself, for the boy and then the man that had been Sev, who had had a friend.  
  
Finally, he wiped his tears, and looked straight at Remus. Thank you for telling me, he said quietly. And thank you for letting me read the letter.  
  
Not at all, Remus smiled gently. But... would you mind terribly if I called you – at least in private – if I called you Sev? It seems like James was the only one that called you that, but I think he would be pleased.  
  
Sev nodded. Yes. I'd like that. And I do think he'd be pleased. He paused. What about Harry? He needs to know, but I doubt he wants to hear about it on his summer holidays.  
  
Remus pursed his lips. James said that the effects of the charm and potion would be half-gone by Halloween and are just beginning to disappear now, which means that the process will be about one-fourth of the way finished when term begins. We can evaluate how he looks then, and make a final decision then, but I suggest we tell him around the beginning of October. It gives him time to make a few decisions about what to tell people.  
  
That sounds logical, Sev agreed. Thank you again. And... I suppose I'll see you when term begins, Remus.  
  
Until then, Sev. Remus smiled. And – keep the letter. I have many things to remind me of my friend; I doubt you had the luxury to do the same.  
  
With that, the werewolf was gone, and Severus Snape was left alone with his whirling thoughts. I have a son, he thought. Harry is _my_ son. Mine. I have a son.  
  
  
  
  
Harry experienced two more of the overnight hair growth spurts between the time he arrived at the Burrow and the day two weeks later when he and Ron set out to meet Hermione at Diagon Alley. His hair had also gotten even flatter and neater, to the point that he could actually comb it and have it make a difference. The changes were more than a little unnerving, since he could not figure out why they were happening, but he had to admit that he looked slightly better than he had before.   
  
C'mon Harry, hurry up, we're going to be late! Harry heard Ron bellow up the stairs. The twins and Ginny were going to accompany them to Diagon Alley as well, and Ron was anxious to get going.  
  
I'm coming, I'm coming, Harry replied as he ran down the stairs. Just had to make sure I had my supply list.  
  
Ron grinned. You know how McGonagall told us who the other prefects were? Hermione wrote about being a prefect and said she wished McGonagall had told her who the other prefects were. So 'Mione doesn't know it's us.  
  
Harry chuckled. So I take it we're going to use that knowledge to our advantage in some way?  
  
Ron nodded. I don't know how, but some way, we will.  
  
Then it was time to Floo to Diagon Alley, and the Weasleys and Harry were soon meeting up with the Grangers at Gringotts, where they all made withdrawals and exchanges.  
  
Fred took command of the group, I believe that several members of our party need to visit Madam Malkin's. And, you, Ronniekins, need new dress robes, which George and I have generously decided to provide for you. George winked discreetly at Harry while Ron gaped. Girls, do you need new robes as badly as these two puberty-striken boys?  
  
Hermione giggled. Not quite as badly, but yes, we do need new robes. I take it that robes are the first item on the list, then.  
  
George answered cheerily, and they set off at a brisk pace for the robe shop.  
  
Harry and the others had been measured for new school robes, and dress robes had been selected for Ron and the girls when it was Harry's turn to get new dress robes. He tried on a pair that was dark green, similar to the ones he had previously had, but he saw Ginny and Hermione wince.   
  
Hermione said, I think that your complexion's changed or something. That color just doesn't look the same. Not to mention the flatter, longer hair. What's up with that?  
  
Ginny giggled. Oh, his hair's been growing at night. Not every night, but some nights. Harry's hair did reach to his chin nearly by that point, and the girls were right, the dark green didn't look as good on him as it once had.   
  
Various other colors were brought out until a bright royal blue was settled on by the shop's workers and Ginny and Hermione. Harry was a bit exasperated by the end, and he complained a bit as he paid. It's not like I want to go to another ball. No reason for me to go this year, either, he lamented bitterly. And here I am spending my morning and my Galleons on dress robes.  
  
Ron was far too happy with his own new robes to comment, and Hermione and Ginny teased him good-naturedly as they went next to restock their potions stores. After thinking a bit, Hermione added several other ingredients to hers and Harry's stack. So we won't have to break into Snape's private stores again, hopefully, she explained. Fred passed by at that moment and stopped still.  
  
Break into Snape's private stores _again_? he exclaimed incredulously. When did you break into them in the first place?  
  
Oh, that was second year, Harry explained airily. We had to make sure that Malfoy wasn't the Heir of Slytherin, so we made polyjuice potion.  
  
Fred said faintly, looking more than vaguely impressed. Any other exploits to open up to?  
  
Ron had joined them. We're not going to tell you all our secrets!  
  
Wait, Ron, Harry interjected. There's one that I think we could safely tell.  
  
Ron raised an eyebrow.  
  
Harry grinned as they exited the shop. The Marauders.  
  
Hermione and Ron broke out into matching grins. agreed Hermione as she directed them towards Flourish and Blotts.  
  
What about the Marauders? demanded George, his interest level high.  
  
Harry smiled innocently. I know them. All of them.  
  
  
  
I didn't realise that I did, of course, Harry explained, until after you gave me the map. Actually, both of you have met two of them as well.  
  
Fred said, his tone full of disbelief.  
  
Moony, Wormtail, Padfoot, and Prongs, Harry recited. Moony is a werewolf, and his three best friends became illegal Animagi in order to accompany him on nights of the full moon. One of the Marauders is dead now, but the other three are still very much alive.  
  
Unfortunately, in one case, Ron growled.  
  
Harry nodded sadly. Exactly. But we're getting ahead of ourselves. Now, Fred, Geoge, Moony is one of the ones that you know. How many werewolves do you know?  
  
Just one, replied George promptly. Professor Lupin. He stopped short, halfway to the clerk's counter. PROFESSOR LUPIN?!?  
  
Harry grinned. Professor Lupin is Moony. And, incidentally, he's coming back this year.  
  
the twins exclaimed. Maybe he can give us pointers!  
  
Harry laughed. Oh, no, I have first claims on anything Marauder.  
  
Fred asked suspiciously. We had the map first!  
  
Let's wait for that until we're out of the bookstore, Hermione broke in. C'mon, let's just pay and then head for ice cream. Wait, where's Ginny?  
  
Right here, Ginny sounded annoyed. I had to get all my books and then I was just listening to those four blabber on about Marauders or something like that.  
  
Hermione smiled. Trust me, Ginny, it's more interesting than it might sound.  
  
The group made their way to the outdoor tables, and Harry took a deep breath.  
  
I have first claim on anything Marauder because I'm the only second generation Marauder, he explained quietly. My father was Prongs – his Animagus form was a stag.  
  
Fred and George looked awestruck. Wow, Harry, you have all the luck! Your dad was a _Marauder_.  
  
Harry shifted uncomfortably. Well, so's my godfather, and then I wonder about his relationship with Professor Lupin, so that's three out of four...  
  
What about the fourth?  
  
Harry asked gently. Do you want to tell this part?  
  
Ron nodded. he explained quietly, was a rat in animagus form. He was the Potters' secret keeper, and after he sold them out to You-Know-Who, he allowed himself to be cornered in an alleyway, where he blew up thirteen Muggles and framed Sirius Black for everything, transforming into a rat, cutting off his toe, and scurrying way.  
  
Ron took a deep breath and a swallow of water. He took refuge with... with a wizarding family. Eventually, he came to Hogwarts. Sirius realised that he was near Harry, and escaped from Azkaban for that reason, changing into his Animagus form to escape. It wasn't a mistake, when Sirius Black came to my bed that night. Ron looked steadily at his brothers.  
  
Ginny was the one who made the connection. she gasped.  
  
Ron nodded. Wormtail. He escaped the night... the night Sirius was recaptured. And he's the one...  
  
The one that cut my arm, Harry finished. Voldemort's most trusted lackey.  
  
Fred and George were gaping. So... Moony, Wormtail, and Prongs. Padfoot?  
  
Sirius Black, Harry finished. Also my godfather. Innocent, but on the run. Dumbledore knows the truth, though.  
  
Fred and George definitely looked impressed, Harry thought. Well. I reckon you need a nickname, too, Harry.  
  
Harry grinned. Not yet. He winked at Hermione, as well as Ron, who had been studying the book on the animagus transformation with Harry at night.  
  
The rest of the shopping went quickly, and the conversation was much lighter. Hermione returned to the Burrow to spend the rest of the holiday with the Weasleys, and Harry was happier than he had been since June, surrounded by his best friends and his surrogate family.  
  



	3. Ch-ch-ch-changes

_Sev broods, Harry muses, the Hufflepuffs realise Harry's not a murderer, and Hagrid's class comes out feeling fairly normal. Just another typical day or two in the life of Harry Potter... er... Snape, no?   
  
And, yeah, this is gonna have slash in it. Because Harry's gay in everything I write. Or at least bi. Sorry if you don't like that, but it's going to play a big part in his interactions with Sev later on – and no, NOT incest. Eww!  
  
_  
  
  
Meanwhile, Severus Snape was brooding. He had returned to Hogwarts to begin brewing the Wolfsbane Potion that Remus Lupin would need each month. Since it could be stored for up to three months, he planned to have an extra two months' supply on hand at all times. Theoretically, it was because he could be called away as a spy, but... That was another issue that had to be dealt with. Voldemort did not trust Severus Snape, and if he were to claim Harry as his son, it would be virtually impossible to return to the circle of Death Eaters. Severus Snape had put his life on hold for years because of his role in the fight against Dark, but he would not this time, and he had to visit Albus Dumbledore and figure out a solution.  
  
Come in, Severus, come in.  
  
Hello, Albus, he said coolly. His professional mask had been broken by only two people – James Potter and, now, Remus Lupin. Not even Dumbledore knew how close James and Sev had become. I'm afraid that we have a problem we must discuss.  
  
Is something the matter?  
  
No. Yes. No. Simply this. I will be unable to remain as a spy any longer.  
  
Albus was shocked, Severus could tell. Whatever he had been expecting, it wasn't this. Why, Severus?  
  
A number of reasons. Voldemort barely trusts me now. I will refuse to use Avada Kedavra in the raid next week. And, perhaps most importantly, I recently learned something important, and I have duties that must supercede my role as a spy.  
  
What have you learned?  
  
I learned, Albus, that I have a child. A son. A child who thinks his parents are dead.  
  
  
  
Severus Snape smiled, knowing it would shock the elderly headmaster. He withdrew the yellowed parchment that Remus had left with him. Perhaps you should merely read this. Remus Lupin received it a couple of weeks ago. He handed the letter to Albus and sat back to wait.  
  
Moments later, Albus raised his head and sighed. I had no idea that you and James had become so close.  
  
That was the point, after all, wasn't it? No one knew. No one at all. He was a good man, Albus, and I have sincerely regretted every time I have been forced to act as if I hate him.  
  
And Harry is your son.  
  
Precisely. If James was correct in his assessment of the spells, then they are beginning to wear off even now. Remus and I are planning to assess just how much as occured when term begins, and then decide when to tell Harry.  
  
  
  
Severus smiled, sadly but genuinely. He offered to call me Sev, he explained enigmatically. So you see why I cannot continue to spy.  
  
Yes, I do, the headmaster sighed. You are correct in that you cannot continue in your role as spy. We apprecite all the work you have done so far, and I do not doubt that I will used your talents in other ways against Voldemort.  
  
I would be upset if you did not, Severus replied evenly.   
  
Albus smiled. I know, child, I know.  
  
Severus stood. I have a syllabus to write. Oh. You might want to warn the other faculty that since I will no longer be serving as a spy, my attitudes will shift significantly. It will be damnably satisifying to give Draco Malfoy the detentions he deserves!  
  
With that, Severus left the room, ignoring the chuckle behind him. He had seethed inwardly at the way he had treated Harry for years, and the way he implicitly encouraged Draco to taunt the Boy Who Lived. Now he could begin to correct those wrongs.  
  
  
  
  
September 1st dawned bright and clear. It was especially clear to Harry, who got up, dressed, packed his trunk, and headed to breakfast before Ron woke up. He was happily spooning up his porridge when Ron entered the kitchen. Whoa, mate, how'd you make it down here without tripping? he asked, his voice full of amusement.  
  
Harry asked, thoroughly confused.  
  
Your glasses, Ron said simply, as if that explained everything. Noting Harry's continued look of puzzlement, he expanded the statement. You aren't wearing your glasses, Harry.  
  
Harry was shocked. I'm not. I'm not? But, Ron, I can see perfectly fine.  
  
Ha, ha, Ron scowled. Good joke. You got contacts and decided to play a trick. Okay, joke's over.  
  
No, Ron, you have to believe me. I don't have contacts, and I really can see!  
  
Ron peered at his eyes. You're right, he said finally. You aren't wearing contacts. You aren't wearing your glasses, and you claim you can see perfectly well. Wait! Your hair grew another inch or two!  
  
Harry looked down at his hair. It had grazed his shoulders the night before, but now was a slightly below them. Huh. The two must be related somehow; I'll ask Hermione if she knows anything.  
  
Anything about what? Hermione greeted them cheerfully as she and Ginny made her way downstairs.  
  
Harry's hair did that growing thing again last night, and – here Ron lowered his voice – he doesn't need his glasses anymore.  
  
Hermione exclaimed, looking thoughtful. I'll check it out once we get back to school.  
  
On their way to catch the train, Hermione again brought up the subject of who the other prefects might be. Harry caught Ron's eye and cocked an eyebrow, then grinned at Ron's answering nod. Well, Hermione, Harry began, only to be interrupted by Ron.  
  
We know who they are! Ron exclaimed triumphantly.  
  
You DO?!? Who? How do you know?  
  
We know, Harry explained, very much amused, because we _are_ the other prefects.  
  
Hermione squealed, then put her arms around both of them in an sort of hug. You two! You didn't _tell_ me! Oh, we're going to have such fun. Any other surprises? The last was said much louder, and it seemed that the other occupants perked their ears up then.  
  
Harry reddened. Actually, yeah. Fred and George turned around at that and grinned.   
  
Aha! She did listen to us, then!  
  
More like she said that she didn't have time to do it herself, so I'd better! Harry laughed.  
  
Ron asked. Are you saying that...  
  
Fred exclaimed cheerfully. Harry's the new Captain!  
  
Ron's eyes lit up. Well done, Harry!  
  
Hermione was less thrilled. Oh, Harry, will you have time for everything?  
  
Harry snorted. We've managed to have enough time before, why would this year be any different?  
  
Hermione had to agree with that as they pulled up at King's Cross Station. They were running slightly late, as it seemed they were wont to do, and they hurriedly went through the barricade to Platform 9 3/4. Fred and George separated from them almost immediately, and Ginny went to find some of her friends, which left the trio to bear the brunt of Mrs. Weasley's goodbye, and then find a place on the train.  
  
Since we're all prefects, we might as well sit up in the prefects' cars, I suppose, Ron said, his voice low. He hadn't told any of his family about being a prefect, and it was dumb luck that none of them had heard them in the car.  
  
Good plan, Harry agreed. And it means we'll either definitely see Malfoy or not at all, but either way his goons won't be with him.  
  
Hermione led the way over to the front of the train, and the three students loaded their trunks onboard and scrambled in to the large, spacious car. Unlike the other cars, it was not divided into separate compartments.  
  
Hello, Justin, Susan, Hannah, Harry and the others greeted the three Hufflepuff prefects from their year. How was your summer? Ron asked.   
  
Harry fidgeted nervously. He wasn't sure if those three, like so many others, still blamed him for Cedric's death.  
  
Mine was terrific, Justin shared. We went on holiday to the United States.  
  
Oh, that must've been fascinating! Hermione was immediately interested and leaned forwards over Harry's lap to talk to Justin. Amused, Harry lifted his eyes to the girl sitting next to Justin.   
  
How about you, Susan?  
  
Susan jumped. Oh! Fine, just fine. Did homework, mainly though.  
  
Harry grimaced in understanding. I think they assign more every year. Of course Hermione loves it, he grinned. Have you heard about our Defence Against the Dark Arts professor? Harry could tell that Susan wasn't quite sure how to deal with him, so he was doing his best to keep things light and relatively impersonal. He didn't fancy breaking down with his memories of Cedric or anything in the middle of the prefects' car.   
  
No, do you know who it is?  
  
Harry smiled. It's one of our old professors returning.  
  
Susan smiled then, finally. Seeing as Quirrell's dead and Lockhart's incompetent, it's either Lupin or Moody.  
  
A shadow crossed Harry's face then. He didn't realise that others didn't know the truth about their professor from the year before. Luckily Ron had overheard the conversation and snorted. Moody? We never really had the real Mad-Eye Moody teach us.  
  
Susan and Hannah both gasped, horrified.  
  
Harry's voice became detached and monotone as he told them a quick version of what had happened. He was taking polyjuice potion. The man that was impersonating Mad-Eye was a Death Eater. He's the one who put my name in the Goblet, and then turned the Cup into a PortKey. Harry sighed. After they interrogated him, McGonagall watched him, so he could be questioned further, but then Fudge had to muck things up as usual, and let the Dementors kiss him. Dumbledore was very angry about that. So Fudge doesn't believe any of us about Voldemort, and everybody's out risking their lives again, because I was _stupid_ enough not to let Professor Lupin and Padfoot kill that damn rat back in third year! Harry's voice had grown louder and louder, and he found the other five staring at him.  
  
Hermione exclaimed. You did the right thing by not letting them kill Wormtail! You were right, your dad wouldn't have wanted them to become murderers for him.  
  
But if I hadn't, Harry said, his voice low now, he never would have gone back to Voldemort, and Bertha Jorkins wouldn't have been killed, and Cedric would still be alive, and Voldemort wouldn't have his body back.  
  
The Hufflepuffs were staring at Harry, a mixture of horror and pity on their faces.   
  
Oh. The point of all that was, Professor Lupin's going to be here again.  
  
That was a rather anticlimatic statement, to say the least, and the Hufflepuffs continued to stare.  
  
Ron said in a concerned voice, I knew you were upset about Cedric, but you never said you blamed yourself for Wormtail.  
  
Susan gasped. You're upset about Cedric?  
  
Harry looked directly at her. I told him to take the Cup with me. We had helped each other out throughout the whole tournament. I told him about the dragons, he helped me work out the egg, and we worked together at times in the maze. I was hurt, and he wouldn't bloody take the cup. Said I deserved it more. Bullocks. The only way I could get him to take it was if we shared it. We grabbed it together, and it was a PortKey that took us to a graveyard. We had our wands out, and a high-pitched voice rang out. Kill the spare.'  
  
That was the only warning we had. Next moment, there was a whisper of Avada Kedavra,' and a flash of green light, and Cedric was dead. Later, after Wormtail brought Voldemort back, they untied me, and forced me to duel Voldemort. Our wands share the same core, in another one of those awful coincidences, but it kept me alive – Priori Incantem effect. Echoes came out of the wand, echoes of the people Voldemort had killed. Cedric asked me to bring his body back to his parents. I saw my parents, Bertha Jorkins, that old Muggle man... they surrounded Voldemort, and I ran to Cedric's body, summoned the Cup, and we returned.  
  
Susan and Hannah were openly crying, and Justin was looking at Harry with something akin to awe. I'm sorry, Justin said simply, holding out his hand. The last thing you need is having people on our side against you.  
  
Harry took the proferred hand, which was followed by Susan's hand, then Hannah's. You don't mind we tell some of the people in our House, do you? Hannah asked. I think it would mean a lot of them.  
  
Harry shook his head. Not at all. I think more people need to know. Know what kind of person Cedric was, and what kind of monster killed him. Unconsciously, Harry rubbed his scar, but Ron noticed.  
  
More nightmares?  
  
Harry sighed and nodded. Not too many, but they're definitely up to something. What worries me is that Wormtail knows the secret passages into Hogwarts. Dumbledore's put up wards on the one under the Whomping Willow, but we'll have to do it ourselves, with Professor Lupin's help, on the other one, if we want to be able to keep using it.  
  
Ron and Hermione nodded, and made mental notes to discuss that possiblity with their Defence professor as soon as possible.  
  
The next couple of hours passed quickly, as Harry, Hermione, and Justin all pulled out books to read, and Ron, in his element, happily entertained the two Hufflepuff girls. Elsewhere in the compartment, older prefects from different Houses were chatting quietly. Harry paused in his reading at one point and barely lifted his eyes to notice that Justin was quietly watching him. Hmm. Harry wouldn't be adverse to any attention from him, although he couldn't discern if he was watching his with interest or merely curiousity. Harry was glad that he had already changed into his robes when he felt himself get aroused at the thought that Justin was checking him out. Great, guess that answers that question, he thought to himself. Just one more thing to make Harry Potter stand out.  
  
Oddly, no one had asked about his lack of glasses, and Harry assumed that most simply thought he had changed to contacts. The train sped onward towards Hogwarts, and Harry wondered why his hair had grown, his eyesight improved, and his complexion changed slightly. He hoped that Hermione's usual skills would be up to the task in finding the answers.  
  
Eventually, it was time for the prefects' meeting, and Harry noted with some displeasure that Draco Malfoy was among the new Slytherin prefects, but thankfully, Harry managed to avoid any encounters with the other boy. Maybe this year will be a good one, Harry mused.  
  
  
  
Meanwhile, at Hogwarts, Sev and Remus were holding court in the dungeons. I'm curious as to how much has changed, Remus stated. I don't know how the combination of the potion and the charm exactly will work.  
  
I doubt he'll need his glasses anymore, Sev said. Lily and I both have – had – excellent sight.  
  
Remus nodded. Undoubtedly he will grow somewhat taller than he would have expected; James was a good five or six inches shorter than you.  
  
Sev let his mind wander. If only he had known... of course he couldn't have done anything at the time, but Harry needn't have gone to live with those Muggle relatives of Lily's. James had probably assumed that Sirius or Remus would have taken Harry in. And now... Sev had missed out on fifteen years of his son's life. He didn't deny that he wasn't the most warm and caring person out there, but he wasn't quite as dour as his outward persona had always suggested.  
  
He remained lost in his thoughts until Remus brought him out of his reverie. The Express will be arriving shortly. We should go on up to the Hall.  
  
The other professors looked up in surprise to see the Potions Master walking amicably with the Defence Against the Dark Arts professor. Contrary to popular opinion, Sev had no real desire for the DADA position, and he certainly wasn't going to waste any more of his life being extraordinarily nasty for no good reason. With those thoughts in mind, he sat down between Remus and Hagrid, laughing at the fact that he was sitting between two former Gryffindors. Good evening, Rubeus, he greeted the large half-giant. I trust your summer activities were profitable?  
  
Hagrid looked at him with astonishment. Er, yes, sir, professor.  
  
Please, call me Severus. I no longer find it necessary to pretend to be nasty to every inhabitant of this school.  
  
That comment was overheard by several of the faculty, Sev noted happily, and he smiled pleasantly when Madam Hooch and that Vector woman shot him concerned looks.  
  
A moment later, the doors opened, and the student body began to enter. Sev began to scan them for Harry – his _son_ – and very nearly passed him over. When he located the boy, he gasped, and his hand clutched convulsively at Remus' leg. Bloody hell, Remus. Look at him.  
  
Remus hadn't been paying attention, Sev could tell, because the ensuing gasp was loud. His hair, Sev, looks exactly like yours, now. Sev had stopped making his hair deliberately greasy, another part of his persona that he was happy to shed. And his eyes must've already corrected themselves. He looks a bit more pale, as well.  
  
Do you think that the beginning of October will be soon enough? Sev murmured, no little apprehension coloring his voice.  
  
I don't know, my friend. We're just going to have to wait and watch.  
  
  
  
As Harry sat down, he looked up towards the faculty table and let out a gasp of his own. Snape's actually being human, he said, his voice tinged with disbelief. He's carrying on a civil conversation with Professor Lupin.  
  
Not only that, but he finally washed his hair, Ron added. I wonder if he found a girlfriend or something.  
  
Hermione snorted. Honestly. It's not polite to talk about the professors that way. The other two scowled at her. Okay, okay, but let me be hypocritical for the first night, at least! Harry and Ron grinned then, and sat back to watch the Sorting, followed by a lavish feast.  
  
The next morning, Harry, Ron, and Hermione all groaned when they read that their year would start off with double Potions with the Slytherins. What a way to start the year! moaned Ron, and Harry agreed. It was with no little trepidation that Harry entered the dungeon classroom and sat down.  
  
Snape swept into the room a moment later, his hair still free of oil and grease, and then did something equally astonishing – he smiled.  
  
Good morning, class. I'm sure you've all noticed a slight chance in my demeanor. Snape tactfully ignored the issue of his hair. I would like to serve notice to all of you that, while I may be more pleasant, I am still the hard taskmaster you have come to know through four years of exacting work. As for the reasons behind this change, let me only say that a difficult chapter of my life has come to a close, and I am free to act as my conscience dictates.  
  
The change was apparent when Slytherin lost House points, although still not as many as Gryffindor, and Draco Malfoy was the only member of the class to receive a detention. As they were preparing to leave, Snape spoke up again. Mr. Potter, Mr. Weasley, Ms. Granger, if you would stay behind for a moment.  
  
He waited until the last student had left the classroom, then closed the door. I believe that you three are aware of the role that I played in our fight against Voldemort? The trio nodded. The change in my attitude is a reflection that I am no longer forced to pretend to be allied with that scum. I wanted to tell the three of you, particularly, and especially you, Harry, that I had to be extra hard on you because of external ties. He paused, and looked directly at Harry – his _son_, he still couldn't believe it – and spoke. I never hated James Potter. He and I actually were partners in ops, and we became close friends. I even came to see you as a baby when I could safely. Our enmity was a ruse from the time we finished our fifth year here until his death. My humblest and most sincere apologies for anything I have said to malign James. Sev had carefully not made any reference to James as Harry's father.   
  
Harry, for his part, was stunned. Professor Snape had just addressed him by his first name, and actually apologised. T-t-thank you, professor, he managed to stutter out before escaping to the comparatively normal environment of Hagrid's Care of Magical Creatures class.  



	4. A Nose for Research/Confessions

_A/N: The conversation between Sev and Harry was giving me fits... I'm still not really happy about it. Ananda makes a brief appearance (she'll be more important later on), and we discover who Harry has a crush on. Won't be the final pairing in the story, although it may last for a bit.   
Thanks for all the lovely reviews!!! :-)_  
  
  
As the next few weeks went by, Harry was quite busy. True to his summer promise, Professor Lupin was giving Harry some private tuition in the evenings on the Dark Arts and how to combat them. Additionally, living with a coral snake in the dorm had taken the other boys a bit to get used too, and he had additionally had to make several kitchen raids to build up a suitable store of food in his room. Ananda frequently wanted to accompany him to class, so he made sure to bring her to Care of Magical Creatures during the second week, and Hagrid had been quite entranced by the venomous snake. The other members of the class, especially Hermione's dormmates, had been less than impressed with Ananda's presence, Harry had noted with a chuckle. Now that he had come to grips, at least somewhat, with the fact that other males were definitely attractive to him, he was finding less and less appealing about the opposite sex, unless they were a friend, like Hermione.  
  
He began wearing his hair in a ponytail to keep it out of his way, especially during Quidditch practise – Ron had earned the spot as Keeper – and the evening session with Professor Lupin. The evening course was entirely practical, and Harry was usually rather sweaty when he left the classroom. A few times, he attempted to ask Professor Lupin about the weird changes in his body, but the former Marauder seemed as clueless as Harry himself, and he stopped asking. Still, as a result of keeping his hair in a ponytail except for brief moments in the shower, he wasn't exactly sure when it had become wavy, but knew that it was another of the odd changes he had been experiencing lately. His skin seemed even more pale, if that was possible, and Harry cornered Hermione late one night in the Common Room.  
  
Hermione, can we spend Saturday trying to figure out what in the world is going on with me? My hair's... _wavy_ now, and I swear that my skin's turning more pale as well.  
  
You've grown an inch or two, I think, Hermione noted clinically. Yes, Saturday is fine. Is Ron going to join us?  
  
Harry shrugged, but mentally he was thinking, would you two just go ahead and _snog_ already? I'll ask him when I go up. I'm canceling practise Saturday morning anyway, since we've been doing so well, and our first match isn't until November, so let's go immediately after breakfast.  
  
Hermione nodded her agreement, and Harry headed upstairs, securing Ron's assistance on Saturday before his head hit the pillow.  
  
  
On Saturday, Harry padded into the bathrooms to shower, and screamed when he saw his reflection. His nose, normally quite round, had grown slightly, but the major change was that it had acquired a point, and overnight. His scream roused Ron, who came running, to find Harry staring in the mirror in shock. Ron did a double take as well, then shrugged. Good think we're going to the library, mate.  
  
Harry nodded dumbly. A good thing, indeed.  
  
Once in the library, Hermione approached Madam Pince with their problem. We're trying to do research on spells, charms, potions, anything that might change someone's appearance and then wear off in 14 to 15 years.  
  
Ah. You'd best start by looking at the section on glamour magic. If you don't have much success, come find me again. We don't have many people that look for that sort of thing, although I do remember a similar request quite a few years ago.  
  
Harry's eyes narrowed. Do you remember who was asking, by any chance? It was a long shot, but maybe, if this was a spell, as Hermione suspected, the person who had cast it had found their information here.  
  
The librarian shook her head. No, I'm sorry, I don't right now. If I remember, though, I'll tell you.  
  
The trio spent the day paging through the huge tomes. Ron left midday and smuggled food from the house-elves back in when Madam Pince wasn't looking. It was nearing dinnertime when Harry and Hermione both found clues.  
  
This is a potion that makes a glamour spell last for an unspecified amount of time', Harry read. It says that in most cases, the spell was terminated before the duration of the potion could be tested, but it also says to look for more recent results in _Annals of the Potion-Charm Interaction Society_. This was written in, Harry checked the date, 1960. I'm going to go ask Madam Pince about the Annals. Harry started to walk away when Hermione called him back.   
  
Wait! This is a charm that's used with that particular potion, Harry. It's used to conceal someone's true identity, and will impose most of the caster's features on the user.  
  
Harry stopped dead. Everyone always says I look exactly like James, he whispered to himself. Louder, he addressed his friends. I'm going to get those Annals and check them out. Hermione, would you mind getting that book as well? Hermione nodded her agreement as Harry crossed the library and asked Madam Pince about the aforementioned Annals.  
  
Well, there's one book that has the Annals from 1965 to 1985, and one from 1985 to the present. Which one do you need?  
  
I think just the one that covers up until 1985. Thank you. Harry rejoined his friends and headed to dinner, concentrating on turning the pages in the heavy book until he found the entry he was both dreading and hoping for.  
  
The Familiritae Potion,' he read, has now been found to show a duration of 25 years on adult subjects, while it lasts only approximately 15 years when administered to an infant or child under the age of 12.' He sighed. That's it, then, isn't it? Someone – most likely James, he added mentally – administered this potion and performed the charm that Hermione found on me. But why?  
  
  
  
Sev was sitting at the faculty table when Harry entered. His eyes went first to his face, where he gasped at the new shape of his nose, and then to the book that Harry was staring balefully at. Hermione was holding another large book, and none of the trio looked very happy.  
  
Remus. Look at Harry, he hissed to his friend.  
  
Dear god, breathed Remus. It's definitely accelerating. And it is nearing October.  
  
Not a moment too soon, Sev added. I recognize that book he has; it's the Annals published by the Potion-Charm Interaction Society, unless I'm mistaken. I can only guess that he and his friends have been trying to figure out what's been going on.  
  
Remus stood. Let me go over to talk to them, and see what the books are. I need to talk to Harry about his godfather anyway.  
  
Remus stood, and Sev watched with a slight pang in his heart as his son greeted the werewolf happily. Sighing, Sev returned to his meal, averting his eyes from Harry and the Gryffindors.  
  
That night, Remus came to visit Sev's quarters. The book was on glamour magic and charms. If they haven't put two and two together, then they will soon.  
  
Sev swore. I wanted to tell him on a weekend, so he'd have a bit of time to himself if he needed it. But if I wait until next Friday night or Saturday morning, he's going to have guessed too much.  
  
Remus nodded. Yes. That's why I told him to come see me in an hour, in my office. I didn't tell him what it was about, just what it wasn't about.  
  
Sev took a deep breath. An hour?  
  
Yes, I know it's short notice, but you'll get less upset about it, Sev. Let's go ahead up there and wait.  
  
  
  
Harry knocked on Professor Lupin's office door, his curiosity heightened even further when he saw that Professor Snape was also there, looking sad and lost. Bewildered, he looked to Professor Lupin for guidance, but he merely smiled sadly himself and gestured for Harry to sit down.  
  
Harry, there is something very important that you need to be told. Before we tell you, we want you to know that no one living knew of this until this summer, and it has taken awhile for us to adjust to, Sev especially, and that is the main reason we have waited to tell you.  
  
Does this have anything to do with the Familiritae Potion and the charm Hermione found?  
  
Remus nodded. Once I saw what books you three had uncovered, I knew we had to tell you tonight, rather than letting you guess and assume.  
  
asked Harry, more than a little shocked.  
  
Sev took a deep breath, and faced his son. Yes. Harry, James left a letter with delayed delivery, to be sent to one of the Marauders on your fifteenth birthday. Remus received the letter, and passed it along to me the next day. I... I think you need to read it now.  
  
Wordlessly, Harry reached out for the piece of parchment that had already shattered two men's conception of the world. He unfolded it slowly, grasping at the immensity of the moment even if he didn't know its direction.  
  
Harry read the words, stunned. James and Sev, close friends, to the point that James trusted Sev with his wife. Lily, unknowing that she carried some other man's child. James' love for his friend and his wife so strong that he concealed Harry's true identity, and loved him and protected him as his own. And, behind it all, the constant drumbeat of words that Harry never thought he would say, much less think. Yet, here he was, thinking them. I have a father. My father's alive. I have a father. A father.  
  
Realising his mouth was open, he closed it and looked up at the two men who were watching him intently. This is why you quit spying. It was a statement, not a question, but Sev nodded anyway. Professor Lupin? Do you mind if we, er, talk privately for a moment?  
  
Remus shook his head. Not at all. I'll be in the staff lounge if you want to find me. He shut the door behind him and Harry looked at Professor Snape, curiosity in his eyes.  
  
So you're my dad.  
  
  
  
And... you're not mad.  
  
No, Harry. James did what had to be done. I wish that I had known sooner, I could have cared for you, instead of those wretched Muggles, I...  
  
Wait. You mean... you _want_ to be my father? Harry couldn't believe what he was hearing.  
  
Merlin, yes! Oh, Harry, how I envied James that he had a family! I always wanted a family, and now... now I find out I have a son... that is, if you'll have me.  
  
Harry was overwhelmed, but it was made somewhat easier by the fact that Professor Snape had change remarkably that school year. I... Well. This is... overwhelming, right now. It's not like James didn't love me, he gestured with the letter, but... everyone has always. I don't know. So many people here at Hogwarts, their conception of me is tied up in seeing me as James Potter's son, to the point that... well, sometimes I wondered why they never said anything about me being Lily's son! And this... changes things. Harry took a deep breath. I won't deny that the idea of having a parent that's living... someone to be proud of me, or even to scold me... All I've known is the Dursleys and...  
  
Sev's instincts took over, and he crossed the room to hold his gently weeping son in his arms. Harry, I have always been proud of you, even when I thought you were James' son. I couldn't be prouder to have you as my son. I... well, I can't say that I understand what you are going through, but I know it must be difficult. I know you may need time to come to terms with this, and that's fine.  
  
You really mean that? Harry looked up at him through his tears.  
  
Yes, I mean it!  
  
There was a long silence as Sev held Harry, both of them lost in their own thoughts.  
  
And... that's why my appearance is changing gradually?  
  
Yes. The process should be complete by mid-winter. That gives you some time to decide what you want to tell people.  
  
This explains, Harry mused, why the Sorting Hat said I could do well in Slytherin.  
  
Sev had to laugh. Yes, I suppose it does.  
  
Can... can we spend the day together tomorrow? Talking, I mean? We don't really know each other, not really, and...  
  
I think it's an excellent idea, Harry.  
  
Okay. I... I think I'm going to go for a walk, if that's alright. Good night.  
  
Good night.  
  
Harry walked back towards Gryffindor Tower, stunned. He didn't know what he was going to say to his friends, much less the rest of the school, although part of him was quite impatient and wanted to just have the charm taken off. Having to wait until midwinter to see what he really looked like didn't really appeal to him. Then again, he thought, as he entered the common room, surely Hermione would know how to do it. The thought cheered him – he could basically perform the countercharm at any time of his choosing – and he went immediately to where Ron and Hermione were sitting in front of the fire.  
  
Hey, you guys. We need to talk.  
  
What's up? Hermione put down her book slowly, while Ron looked immediately happier at the thought of ending his charade of pretending to study.  
  
Not here, Harry shook his head. Let me get the Map and the cloak, and we can head somewhere private.  
  
Harry returned a moment later, and the three students slipped out of the common room as Harry shook the cloak out around them. He activated the Marauders' Map and led his friends to an abandoned room off the second-floor corridor. Here. No one should be coming by here. Hermione, why don't you conjure us one of your fires?  
  
Hermione smiled, and the room was soon filled with warmth and a pleasant blue light.  
  
Okay. Here goes. You know how Snape said that he and James worked together? Ron and Hermione nodded. Part of the operations often involved the two of them swapping places, through polyjuice and glamour spells. They were apparently close friends, really close, to the point that they trusted one another with their lives. But there was one secret that Snape didn't know. Nobody knew, until Professor Lupin got a delayed delivery letter on my birthday. Harry took a deep breath. He was beginning to accept what had happened, and who he was, but his friends hadn't seen their Potions Master that evening, and Ron might be the type to hold grudges.  
  
From James, I assume? Hermione asked.  
  
Harry nodded. He's the one that performed the spell on me, and gave me the potion, in order to protect all of us. He was the only one that realised that... well, one of the times in which they had switched, Snape had to sleep with my mum. Hermione gasped, but Ron still looked puzzled. Severus Snape is my biological father.  
  
Ron sat silently, just staring off into space.  
  
Harry reached into his pocket and withdrew the letter that his... father... had let him borrow. He handed it to Hermione, who was sitting very close to Ron. I think you ought to read this.  
  
Hermione took the proffered parchment, and managed to attract Ron's attention to it. Harry watched in silence as his two best friends read over the letter.  
  
So... you have a dad, Ron said in a strange voice. But. How does he feel about it? I don't want you to get hurt, Harry.  
  
Oh. That explained Ron's behavior. You didn't see him tonight, Ron. I think none of us know the real Severus Snape, but I think I trust James' judgement, at least.  
  
Hermione nodded slowly. And the potion and the charm are slowly wearing off?  
  
Harry nodded, his lips pressed together tightly. The full charm won't wear off until mid-winter, unless I decide to take it off before then. He paused. I... I think I'm going to walk around for a bit, before I come back to the tower. Do you two mind going back without the cloak?   
  
They shook their heads, and Hermione gave him a little hug before the two disappeared. Harry headed up to the Owlery first, to send a letter to Sirius. He simply wrote that his godfather should contact Remus as soon as possible.   
  
After that, Harry wandered aimlessly around the school. The affection that James Potter had had for Harry was clear in the letter, and, in a way, it did mean that Harry had two fathers rather than just one. Leave it to me, though, he thought, to have a dead man and the most hated professor in school – one who used to be a Death Eater to boot – as the two fathers. Granted, Snape wasn't hated as much, since he was now equally hard to his own House in class, but he was still far from liked. Oddly, the Slytherins still maintained their easy regard for the man, and Harry could only figure that there were things that went on in the dungeons that no one else knew about.  
  
Things you could've known about, a voice in his head said silently. Your father was a Slytherin, and you know what the Sorting Hat said.   
  
No, thought Harry angrily, I am a Gryffindor, regardless of who my father is. He smiled, then, knowing that that particular fact was, at least, true. And it wasn't like Snape was really the person he had pretended to be for so long.   
  
It was around two am when Harry had another alarming thought. His newly-discovered sexual orientation. He couldn't deny that he was noticing the other male students more and more these days, and he was nursing a rather large crush on Justin. He had even partnered him in Herbology on a couple of occasions. Harry didn't know what the wizarding world thought of gays, but he couldn't imagine that his... father – he gulped once more – would be pleased to acquire a son, only to find out he was – gay.  
  
Oi! Harry thought to himself. Am I gay, then? Harry hadn't admitted it even to himself. What a night, he thought bitterly. I can go from being Harry Potter, the Boy Who Lived, to Harry Snape, the Boy Who Likes Boys, all at once. He shook his head. The whole gay thing would have be kept a secret for awhile longer, that was for sure.  
  
  



	5. Father and Son?

_A/N: I lied. I started reading the reviews, decided to change the direction the story went in, and was inspired to churn out another chapter, despite the fact that I should be packing to go to the beach. If only I had a laptop and wireless internet on the beach, so I could write and read fan fiction in the sand, lol!  
Muchas gracias for the lovely reviews.  
I'm still uncertain about the early Harry-Sev interaction in this chapter as well. It seems more natural in later chapters (or at least in snippets I have done), but it seems too fast, maybe? I don't know. At any rate, enjoy!  
  
_  
  
Sev walked in to breakfast somewhat nervously the next morning. He had gone directly back to his quarters the night before, and had sunk into an exhausted sleep. He sat down next to Remus Lupin as he scanned the room for his son.  
  
How did it go last night?  
  
Well, I think. Harry's going to come down to the dungeons today so we can talk some more.  
  
Remus smiled. He looked up then to see Hermione and Ron enter the hall, who waved and smiled happily at the pair. Remus motioned them over.  
  
Where's the other vertice? Remus teased.  
  
Hermione smiled. He's not coming to breakfast; he was out late, thinking, last night, and he stopped at the kitchens and got some food from Dobby before he came back upstairs. She paled then. Oh, say you won't punish him, please, she wailed.   
  
Don't worry, Ms. Granger, Sev said. I think we can overlook both you and your friend's transgressions for today.  
  
The pair turned and walked back to the Gryffindor table, where Sev observed some of the others questioning Hermione and Ron as to why they were so friendly to the Head of Slytherin. The pair waved them off, and grabbed some food and went back up to their dorm. A few minutes later, Sev finished his meal and stood up, suddenly nervous again. Remus looked at him and smiled. It will go well. Don't worry. Sev smiled in return and walked from the hall, trepidation still snaking in his heart.  
  
  
  
Harry had come to a few conclusions as he walked that morning, and the first one was that he was going to ask Snape – no, his father, he corrected mentally – to remove the remaining portions of the charm. There was, truly, no sense in going around in such a manner any longer. It wouldn't change any of the facts. That is, he would have the charm removed as long as his father was amenable. There. He had thought it.  
  
He also wondered what he – they, rather – should do about telling others. His changed appearance would be a giveaway to some, and then the story would begin to leak out into the wider wizarding world beyond Hogwarts. Not only that, should he change his last name? In the darkness of the night, he had waffled back and forth on the issue many times before deciding to ask about that as well.  
  
He knocked on the door to his father's office. Come in, called a soft voice, and Harry slipped in.  
  
he said nervously.   
  
Good morning, Harry. Sev smiled, but he was inwardly trembling. The pair just stood looking at each other for several moments before Harry finally spoke.  
  
I, er, I was thinking last night, and – if you want to, that is – I thought you could removetherestofthecharm. The last part was said in a hurried rush, and it took Sev a few moments to decipher what his son – his son! He still couldn't believe it – had said.  
  
he said quietly. I... that is, if you are sure that you would like to, I certainly don't have a problem with it.  
  
Harry replied. Would you – would you go ahead and do it now, please?  
  
Sev nodded, and Harry shut his eyes as the counter-charm was muttered and he felt himself delved by the magic of the complex and intricate spell. When it was over, he opened his eyes and found himself almost the same height as Sn– his father.   
  
He didn't even recongise his own voice! It was deeper, and smoother, more like his father's, thought Harry wryly. Wordlessly, Sev handed Harry a mirror, and a moment later Harry was staring at himself as he truly looked for the first time.  
  
His hair was the same, as was his eyes, but his cheekbones and chin were more defined, a cross between the sharp planes of his father and the angled roundness of his mum. He was several inches taller, and his eyes were placed slightly differently. His ears were proportionally smaller, and his limbs were longer, but the knobbly knees were gone. he said. I'm going to need a couple of weeks to get used to this on a broom.  
  
Sev couldn't help but laugh. I have no doubt that your natural Quidditch talent – which, by the way, comes from my sterling performance as Slytherin Seeker – will overcome any hardship.  
  
Harry bit back a laugh, but then realised that he had a problem. His clothes were much too small, and they were the largest he had.  
  
Um... I don't have any clothes that fit anymore. My shoulders are broader and I'm seven inches taller than I was when I bought my school things!  
  
Well. Harry. What do you say to taking a trip into Hogsmeade to go clothes shopping? Sev asked, humor in his voice.  
  
Harry laughed. That might be a good plan. Smiling, the pair left Sev's office and headed out towards Hogsmeade, Harry wearing the invisibility cloak until they were clear of Hogwarts grounds.  
  
You realise that you don't have to go back to the Dursleys' now, Sev mused. Harry's eyes widened. He hadn't thought of that.  
  
Merlin! I didn't even think about that! That's fantastic!  
  
Sev laughed. It was something he had done infrequently until the past few hours, but he found it to be pleasant. He led Harry to an outpost of Madam Malkin's, where he bought Harry new school robes, two sets of dress robes (over Harry's protests), as well as a few non-school everyday robes. he held one, a deep scarlet, out to Harry. Put this on, for the rest of the day. Harry nodded. Dressed in the robes, with his hair long and without his glasses, the lightening bolt scar was the only feature that connected him with the Boy Who Lived.  
  
After leaving the robe shop, Sev went to a store with Muggle clothing, which Harry enjoyed slightly more. He found a pair of leather pants that he was particularly intrigued by, and convinced his dad to buy both them and some leather boots as a late birthday present. He exchanged his shoes for the boots immediately, dropping Dudley's old shoes in the nearest rubbish heap. Good riddance, he grimaced.  
  
By then it was lunchtime, and the pair went to the Three Broomsticks before heading back towards the castle. They had spent the morning talking almost constantly, and now Sev offered to go flying with his son.  
  
Harry's eyes lit up. Really? Excellent. We can have a one-on-one Seekers' game. He summoned his Firebolt and mounted expectantly while he waited for his dad to select one of the school brooms. They were all old and somewhat battered. Harry said finally. Use Ron's. He won't mind. Fred and George made enough this summer to get him a used Nimbus 2000, which is definitely better that that old Shooting Star you're about to choose.  
  
Sev smiled and rolled his eyes but complied, and the pair kicked off together. Harry was elated to find that his father had no little amount of skill, and it took the better part of two hours before the game was over.   
  
There's one or two other things we need to do before dinner, Harry said somewhat solemnly. We need to tell Dumbledore that I know, and... we need to discuss my last name.  
  
Your last name?  
  
Well, I'm not really a Potter, now am I?  
  
Sev said slowly. I just didn't think that you'd want to...  
  
Change it? Sev nodded. Well... I don't know. I mean, I don't, but I do. It seems like I should... as long as you don't mind.  
  
Mind? No! Heavens, no. Not at all. I just... I never expected you to accept me so easily.  
  
Harry grinned, somewhat sadly. We're both love-starved... Dad.  
  
Sev beamed at the simple word. Thank you, he said softly, and Harry smiled in acknowledgment as they walked back into the castle and up towards the Headmaster's office.  
  
  
The pair arrived in Dumbledore's office, to a quizzical look. Hello, Severus. Who is this?  
  
Harry grinned, and swept his hair away from where he had pulled it to temporarily conceal the lightning bolt scar. Hello, Headmaster.  
  
Harry! Merlin! I assume that you now know.  
  
Yes, sir.  
  
And... you are okay? Harry nodded, smiling once more.  
  
We thought you should be aware that Harry now knows, Albus, Sev explained to the headmaster.  
  
Ah, very good. I am glad that the two of you are getting along well, he smiled. I'm about to head to dinner, would you care to walk with me?  
  
There's one more thing, Harry said quickly. My last name.  
  
Your last name? Dumbledore asked blankly.  
  
I'm not a Potter, Harry said, raising one eyebrow. So how do we change it?  
  
Now Dumbledore was smiling, and he cast a few spells, producing a sheaf of parchment. This is your corrected birth certificate, this is a name change form, and this is a statement confirming that the Dursleys no longer have guardianship. You just both need to sign the name change form and it will be automatically official.  
  
Harry grabbed a quill and signed the form quickly, grinning as he handed the quill off to his father, who signed the form equally quickly. Harry grinned. That's that.  
  
Yes, it is, Mr. Snape, Sev joked. Harry Snape doesn't sound all that bad.  
  
No, it doesn't. Harry smiled. I told Ron and Hermione I'd meet with them outside the hall, so I'd better run. I'll see you tomorrow.  
  
Okay. I had fun today.  
  
Me too. Dad. With that, Harry smiled and headed down the corridor.  
  
He smiled as he came up on Ron and Hermione, who were snogging in an alcove as they waited. I'm glad to see you two can keep yourselves entertained without me, he joked, as the two blushed and broke apart.  
  
Harry! Is that you? How did today go?  
  
Harry smiled. Yes, it's me. Oddly enough, today went fairly well. He paused. We went shopping.  
  
The other two laughed. And you talked?  
  
Yes, and we went flying, and we just went to see Dumbledore.  
  
Why did you need to see Dumbledore? That was Hermione, ever curious.   
  
Well, he needed to know that I know, and... Harry paused. I, uh, changed my name.  
  
So you're not Harry anymore? Ron asked, incredulous.  
  
No, my _last_ name, you prat! Harry laughed.  
  
Oh! So you're Harry Snape now?  
  
Harry nodded. This weekend has been unreal. I just hope Sirius doesn't freak out too badly. That's why I sent him to Remus first.  
  
The other two laughed and then they entered the dining hall and sat down. Harry noted that his father hadn't arrived yet as he sat down.   
  
spewed out Seamus, echoing the thoughts of many at the table. Harry POTTER? Is that you?  
  
Er, well, yes. Sort of.  
  
Sort of?  
  
I, uh, found out yesterday that I'm not a Potter. I mean, James Potter loved me and all, but it was to protect me, and my real father. He didn't even know.  
  
demanded Fred. Who is it?  
  
Ron grinned. Who does he look like, Fred?  
  
Well, Harry, I hope you're not insulted if I'm wrong, because I hope I am, but, mate, you look... you look like Snape!  
  
Harry couldn't help it; he grinned.   
  
The table fell silent. Seamus said finally. That's a bloody big secret not to tell anyone for fifteen years.  
  
Harry nodded soberly. Yes. But it was a result of the war more than anything.  
  
Seamus nodded halfheartedly, and the stunned table moved on to other topics. Harry just wondered what the reaction would be from the Slytherins the next morning in Potions.  



	6. Monday, Monday

_A/N: Yes, you have to put up with the Justin/Harry pairing for a few more chapters; it's Very Necessary for plot development, let me put it that way. I hope the Potions scene is satisfactory; I re-worked it slightly but I'm still not entirely pleased with it. sigh Oh well.  
  
Oops, I haven't put a disclaimer in a bit – not mine!_  
  
  
Harry was smiling as he entered the classroom and exchanged glances with his father. He sat down and looked around the room expectantly, waiting for Malfoy to make a comment.  
  
So, Potter decided to get himself a makeover. How much magic did all that take, anyway? More than you have, I'm sure, Draco sneered.  
  
Harry looked at him curiously, head cocked to one side. Are you addressing me?  
  
Yes, Potter, are you dense?  
  
There are no Potters, Harry stated firmly. None left living. I'm not a Potter.  
  
Draco narrowed his eyes. What are you talking about?  
  
Ask my father, if you really want to know. I doubt that he would appreciate a student enquiring into his private life, however.  
  
At that moment, Severus decided to call the class to order. Mr. Malfoy, Mr. Snape, if you could save your conversation for after class, we have a complex potion to make today.  
  
Harry smirked at the gasps he heard behind him. Ron whispered in his ear then. You know, you really do look like him when you smirk, Harry. Harry just shrugged.  
  
Ah, could you repeat what you just said, Professor? asked Pansy Parkinson.  
  
I merely asked Mr. Malfoy and Mr. Snape to cease talking so class could begin.  
  
Draco gasped, then looked between Harry and the professor, understanding showing on his face. Bloody hell, he whispered. I think I'll sit down now.  
  
Harry, for his part, was staring at his desk, resolutely trying his hardest not to burst out laughing. This included avoiding the glances that his two best friends were sending him as well. The rest of potions passed without much incident, and Harry smiled briefly at his father before he and the rest of the Gryffindors headed out to the greenhouses for Herbology.  
  
His resolve not to do much about his sexual orientation for a bit was squashed when Justin walked in, looking gorgeous as always. Since Harry and the Gryffindors had arrived first, Harry found himself sitting alone at a table, but he hardly hoped that he would get to partner with Justin today. Consequently, all resolve went out the window when Justin came over to sit beside him.  
  
Hey, Harry.  
  
Hi, Justin. Harry smiled in response to the now-shorter boy.  
  
So... you found out that Snape's really your dad, huh?  
  
Harry nodded. It's not as bad as it sounds, honestly. I guess you could say that I was result of the war going on, he said wryly. But being seven inches taller and looking different is a bit to get used to. James had put a long-lasting charm on me.  
  
Justin looked interested. That's got to be a powerful charm, then. He smiled. Well, I think it suits you.  
  
Harry replied, now feeling a bit shy. At that moment, Professor Sprout entered the classroom and began to speak.  
  
Class, let's come to order. We're about to begin a project that will constitute a major part of your preparation for your O.W.L.s in June. Unless anyone has a problem with it, the person you are partnered with today will be your partner for the duration of the project. This will involve no little amount of outside research and other time spent out of class, so if you do have a problem with who you are sitting with, please, tell me now or after class.  
  
No one moved, and Harry's heart was doing somersaults at that moment – large somersaults of joy.   
  
Professor Sprout continued. With your partner, you will choose two of the assembled plants to care for over the remainder of the year, and you will turn in a joint report covering all aspects of each plant, from how to grow it to its magical uses, at the end of the year as well. The plants themselves will constitute the practical portion of your O.W.L.s, and the report will count for half of the written portion. The other half will be an exam paper written on the other plants that your classmates choose, and to help you study, you will each receive copies of your classmates' reports.  
  
Harry was impressed at the depth of the project. He turned to Justin then. Whew. That's gonna be a big project. Any preferences on plants?  
  
Not really. Some of them look pretty... dangerous.  
  
Yeah... wait! I think there are two Devil's Snares. He grinned at Ron and Hermione, who had also noticed that.   
  
Devil's Snare? Justin asked warily.  
  
Don't worry, they aren't as bad as they seem, Harry said confidently. He and Justin walked forward to the front of the room and claimed one of them as Ron and Hermione claimed the other. Professor Sprout's eyes were twinkling when she saw the ones that they had chosen.   
  
Ah, yes, I thought that you three might enjoy playing with that one in a less... perilous situation.  
  
Harry grinned in response. Justin, why don't you pick out our other one, since I got one of the more interesting ones here?  
  
I think that might just be a good idea, Justin said, the relief apparent on his face as he picked up a simple aloe plant and the pair walked back to their table.  
  
Well, taking care of them won't be too hard, at least not at first, and I know a few things about Devil's Snare, from first year, but we should probably try to find out more about both of them in the library pretty soon, Harry stated. I don't know about you, but my schedule's pretty full, so I guess we need to see if we have any free time in common.  
  
Yeah, my plate's pretty full too, Justin agreed. What about after dinner one night?  
  
Harry winced. Can't. Defense lessons with Remus.  
  
  
  
Oops, yeah, he was one of my... oh hell, he was one of James' best friends, and also one of my godfather's friends, here at Hogwarts. Anyway, he's giving me extra lessons. Harry grimaced. For the _next_ time I get to be captured by Voldie.  
  
Justin chuckled. You know, I think it's great, that you still have some sense of humor about the whole thing. Can I copy the Voldie thing?  
  
Harry grinned at the other boy. Sure. Now, after Defense lessons, I have Quidditch on Mondays and Wednesdays, but I suppose I can change the practise times if I have to.  
  
Justin frowned. Actually, I'm on the Quidditch team this year, myself – Chaser – and we have practise right on Tuesdays and Thursdays, so.... Hmm. Any other potential conflicts?  
  
Well, my share of detentions has decreased substantially this year, Harry confided, but I always seem to get into some sort of difficulty. Wait! Saturday. I know it's a Hogsmeade weekend, but are you busy in the morning?  
  
Justin shook his head. Good idea.  
  
Meet you in the library after breakfast?  
  
It's a date, Justin said with a smile as he walked away, causing Harry to stop still. A date? Nah, surely he didn't mean... Of course not.  
  
Ron and Hermione caught up to Harry then. Oi! Harry! What do you think of this Herbology project, hmm?  
  
At least it's better than if we had a big project in some other classes, Harry said. Could you imagine what Trelawney could come up with?  
  
Ron groaned. I don't even want to think about it. Speaking of, we'd better run to Divination. Bye, Hermione! he called, and the two boys took off through the castle towards Trelawney's tower hideout.  
  
Trelawney was full of new predictions for Harry's death, now based around the fact that Harry's father was Severus Snape. Harry tuned her out after the first five minutes and got through the rest of the day fairly well after that.  
  
Harry found himself in his father's office on Tuesday evening after his Defence lesson with Remus, and the two of them talked rather amiably.  
  
I don't think most people know quite what to think of all this, Harry shared. And I know Ron and Hermione still find it odd that I'm voluntarily visiting the dungeons.  
  
Yes, well, the other faculty members still hadn't quite recovered from how much nicer I was acting at the beginning of the school year, so I think they're still not quite processing the fact that you're my son. I know for a fact that Minerva's rather disconcerted that there is a _Snape_ in her House. Not to mention he's a prefect and the Quidditch captain.  
  
Harry grinned. I wonder how soon until the news hits the world outside Hogwarts.  
  
Sev shrugged. It should be interesting to see. I hate to imagine what that Rita Skeeter woman will do with this story.  
  
Harry snorted. I doubt Rita Skeeter will be writing anything. Hadn't you noticed that she hasn't written since... oh, the night of the last task of the Tournament?  
  
Sev narrowed his eyes at his son. What do you know, Harry?  
  
Just that Hermione, er, captured her, and only let her go with the promise that she wouldn't write for a year. Otherwise, we'd turn her in. Harry's smile was impish.  
  
Turn her in?  
  
As an illegal Animagus. A beetle, to be exact.  
  
She's a beetle?  
  
Harry nodded. That's how she found out so many things last year, during the Tri-Wizard Tournament. She was outside when Hagrid admitted to Madam Maxime that he was half-giant, she was in Hermione's hair after the second task, and then Hermione caught her on the windowsill of the hospital wing.  
  
Hmmph. And she kept her in a jar or something for a bit? Harry nodded. Good. Sounds like a suitable punishment for bending the truth.  
  
The rest of the week went by quickly, and Saturday morning rolled around before Harry knew it.   
  
Harry! Are we meeting you in Hogsmeade, mate? Ron asked cheerily as they got dressed.  
  
I don't know, Harry said slowly. This morning is the only time Justin and I could find to work on our Herbology project, and neither of us has had time to do anything on it until now, so I don't know how long I'll be.  
  
Oh, alright then, Ron replied, and the two friends went to meet Hermione and go down to breakfast.   
  
After breakfast, Harry made his way to the library, where Justin was already waiting. Hey, Harry. Ready to read all about plants? He made a face, and Harry laughed along with him. It was relatively easy to find information on the aloe plant, but most of the books on Devil's Snare were in the Restricted Section.  
  
Well, here's what I can tell you. You can escape it by relaxing, or using fire on it. And it doesn't have to be a wood-burning fire, Harry smiled at the memory.  
  
Excuse me?  
  
When we went after Quirrel, first year, the first obstacle was Professor Sprout's – a huge Devil's Snare. Hermione relaxed, and I did too, so we dropped through, but Ron was too well caught, so Hermione starts talking about fire and how there's no word, and finally Ron explodes Are you a witch or not?' at which point Hermione conjured an excellent little fire, and Ron was free. Well, free to go on to the next obstacle.  
  
Justin made a face. You never have a normal school year, do you?  
  
Harry just shook his head ruefully. I was kind of hoping that this year would be, but it's already had its share of interesting relevations.  
  
More than one?  
  
Forget I said anything. Harry was embarassed, and tried to cover it quickly. Here, this book should have something about the care and feeding of a Devil's Snare, at any rate.  
  
The pair continued working steadily for quite some time, and took another small break around 11 AM.   
  
Do you think they'll have another Yule Ball this year? Justin asked conversationally, and Harry made a face.  
  
I hope not. I'm a horrible dancer. Not to mention that it's another opportunity to watch Ron and Hermione make fools of themselves. Not that they don't make a cute couple, but...  
  
It's nauseating to watch sometimes, Justin finished for him. I know what you mean. Ernie and I have always hung out together, but now he's gotten together with Susan, and I feel like a third wheel – or maybe a fifth.  
  
Harry laughed, a genuine laugh. I told Ron that, and he couldn't understand why I was talking about wheels. It's nice to talk to someone who understand Muggle phrases – and won't try to overanalyze them.  
  
Justin guessed, and Harry nodded.  
  
What's worse is that since Remus has been giving me the extra lessons, my marks in Defense are higher than hers. That she might could forgive, but the effects are carrying over into charms, and a bit of transfiguration as well, and I've never really put much effort into my classes, so seeing me do well as her has put her in a bit of snit.  
  
Justin winced.   
  
Remus said that he knows how she feels, though, so he's trying to be extra understanding with her. Evidently things were the same way for him with James and Sirius.  
  
Justin nodded understandingly. I used to do worse than just about anyone, because I didn't... I don't know. I just didn't really seem to care, especially after missing most of second year. Then, right at the end of third year, I just decided I wasn't going to waste my time here. I spent most of that summer catching up, and I've been working hard to get even with the rest of the class, but now that I am, I'm not needing to spend as much time – like it's gotten easier.  
  
Intense magical study accelerates the development of magic, Harry nodded. At least, that's what Remus said was happening with me. When you put effort into catching up, it must've affected your magical development.  
  
That makes a lot more sense when you put it that way. I've been trying to work ahead, just a bit, in some classes though, Justin confessed. And if that really is the result of the extra work... well, I have to admit I like it.  
  
Harry sobered a bit. We'll all probably need it, at some point. But, I agree, I like it, too.  
  
The pair returned to their work and it was past lunchtime before they stopped again. Merlin! We've missed lunch, Harry cried.  
  
Justin chimed in. I didn't really want to wait until dinner to eat again.  
  
Well, we could raid the kitchens, but since it's a Hogsmeade weekend, the best solution is to get a plate at the Three Broomsticks. Wanna come with? Harry casually offered, but his mind was racing. Did I just ask Justin out on a date? It's not a date if he doesn't realise it's a date, right? Did I mean for it to be a date? His thoughts were interrupted by Justin himself.  
  
he smiled brightly, then paused for a moment. Is this, you know, like... a date? I don't mean to assume, he rushed on, but you've kind of been...  
  
Sending out signals? offered Harry. Yeah, I am, but... well. It's whatever you want it to be. Two friends, classmates, whatever.  
  
Justin cocked his head tenatively. I think... I think I'd like it to be a date. He smiled then, and Harry returned it, somewhat shyly, as the two boys made their way out of the castle and on towards Hogsmeade.  
  
As they approached the settlement, Justin turned to Harry, his face serious. I know... I know that you aren't out yet, by any stretch. So... even though you might think you're willing to come out by doing something, anything in public, I'd advise you not too. I've at least told a few people, but have you?  
  
Harry shook his head. No. Actually, I've never even said it out loud.  
  
Justin's eyes sparkled. Could I be the first to hear it?  
  
Harry smiled. Justin, I'm gay.  
  
Justin staggered back in fake shock. What a surprise.  
  
The two boys laughed as they entered the pub and sat down at a small table by the door, quickly ordering some roast pork and vegetables. Harry attacked his with a vengeance, as did Justin. I guess we were hungry, Harry said with a laugh.  
  
Justin chuckled, then looked around for a moment before leaning forward. We have to be careful, or we'll give in to the effeminate stereotype, he said, then laughed as Harry nearly spluttered his butterbeer everywhere in an attempt to stem his own laughter.  
  
Well, I think with our manly images as Quidditch players, we hardly need worry, right? Harry jested, and the rest of the conversation went in the same direction. The two were just finishing up and ordering two butterbeers to go when Ron and Hermione entered the pub.   
  
Harry! There you are! said Hermione as they detoured to Harry and Justin's table. Mind if we join you?  
  
Actually, we were just leaving, Harry said, his tone apologetic. Actually he wasn't sorry at all, he had just invited Justin to come back with him to the Shrieking Shack – after explaining that it wasn't haunted at all.  
  
Oh, okay, Hermione said, although she didn't sound too terribly disappointed. Oh! Tonight, are we studying in the common room?  
  
The three had been meeting on Saturday nights to study the Animagus transformation, but had missed several Saturdays lately.  
  
Harry said, before he and Justin exited the pub and walked down the street in the rapidly cooling air. The sun set early by October in Scotland, and the wind held the promise of snow to come soon. Harry was thankful to reach the comparative safety of the Shrieking Shack, and Justin conjured a smokeless fire while Harry removed some of the dust on the rickety bench that was the only place to sit. Chores completed, the two sat down beside each other, and the small size of the bench meant that they were touching ever so slightly. Harry suddenly felt unbearably awkward, and the silence was heavy.  
  
Finally Justin spoke. Bloody hell. I... do you mind if I... kiss you?  
  
Harry felt himself redden slightly. he managed to stammer, and then he turned to face Justin, and felt Justin's arms slip around him, pulling him closer. Harry let his own arms worm around Justin's neck as their lips touched, and Harry could not have said which of them deepened the kiss. Harry did know that both of them were breathing hard when they pulled apart and he felt his own grin stretch across his face, matching the one on Justin's. Their eyes met and held each other's gaze.  
  
Justin began. I know that you aren't ready to come out yet – in fact, I think coming out right now wouldn't be good for you, with everything else, but... would you be my boyfriend?  
  
I think I'd like that, Harry said shyly. I'd like that alot. Then he took the initiative and pulled his boyfriend – his boyfriend! – in for another kiss. They continued snogging and staring into one another's eyes for quite awhile before realising that they needed to hurry back to the castle in order to make dinner. They skidded into the entrance hall as most of the school was entering, and parted with the briefest touch of hands.  
  
Harry made his way to the Gryffindor table, pausing to smile at his father as he did so, and sat down across from his two best friends. Have a nice time in Hogsmeade? he asked innocently.  
  
Ron and Hermione smiled in return. Yes, thank you. What about you?  
  
Eh, well, we had only gotten done after lunchtime, so I wasn't there that long, really. But the food was good!  



	7. Only Human

_A/N: Ah, a little bridging chapter, I think you'd say. Enjoy the happiness, lovely readers, because it's going to get bumpy from here on out-- at least, as far as I have plotted out.  
Thanks to all of my reviewers. Next chapter I'll comment on a few, don't want to give away too much plot here!_  
  
  
  
That evening, the three friends plotted out their Animagi practise.  
  
We need to find some place relatively private, obviously, Hermione began, and Harry and Ron rolled their eyes as Hermione went into planning mode. Harry, isn't there an old abandoned classroom on the third floor, near where Fluffy was.  
  
Harry grimaced at the reminder of Fluffy. Actually, the room where Fluffy was would be good, he suggested, and the three agreed to meet there at 10 that evening. Harry would travel with the Marauder's Map, and Ron and Hermione would use the Invisibility Cloak.   
  
They made their way there later, and proceed to attempt the Animagus transformation yet again. They weren't entirely sure what forms they were taking, although all of them had experienced some fur growth. Luckily, since they started in their fifth year, it wouldn't take them the three years it had taken the Marauders to perfect the process.  
  
It was nearing midnight before they returned to Gryffindor Tower. Hermione had discovered that she would have a long, thin tail, which she thought indicated some sort of feline. Ron, on the other hand, just experienced more fur, although the color – a bright, burnished red – was a source of amusement for the others. Finally, there was Harry, who had two ears on the top of his head, as well as paws, for an overall effect that was definitely canine. Pleased with their progress, they dropped into bed exhausted.  
  
  
  
Harry found the next few weeks increasingly busy, and he actually wrote out his schedule on a piece of parchment once, just to see what it really looked like. His jaw dropped when he realised just how busy he truly was. Laughing slightly, he had taken it to the next Herbology class and slid it towards Justin with a quiet whisper. Pen yourself in, if you can. Justin had smiled slightly and returned the parchment to Harry at the end of the period. Carefully, Harry folded it and put it inside his cloak pocket; it wouldn't do to have Ron or Hermione questioning why there were blocks of time that Justin had marked as Study Cutest Ass in School Time or Study Inside of SO's Mouth Time, even though Harry was privately both amused and aroused by the descriptions.   
  
A few weeks had passed before he realised that he still hadn't heard from Sirius. Concerned, he broached the subject with Remus.  
  
Ah, have you heard from Snuffles lately?  
  
Remus grimaced slightly. Actually, yes. Very tricky, by the way, having him come to me instead of you. He smiled, though, so Harry knew he wasn't angry. He came up here about a week and a half ago – one Tuesday evening. Harry raised his eyebrows. It had been sheer dumb luck that Tuesdays and Thursdays were the nights he spent with his father in the dungeons, trying to build some relationship between them. I told him, best I could, what had happened. Needless to say... he wasn't very happy. He decided to leave and said he would come back when he didn't feel like committing homicide.  
  
Who was he going to kill? The whole mix-up is James' fault, if you have to lay blame, which I personally don't. Or maybe Dumbledore, for having the pair of them work together?  
  
Remus shrugged helplessly. I wish I knew. The next part was said in a mumble that Harry wasn't sure he heard. He's not very fun in bed when he's angry, though, so I hope he snaps out of it soon.  
  
Harry's eyes widened. You are too?!? he blurted out, before he could stop himself.  
  
Are what?  
  
What you just said... under your breath...  
  
Remus blushed. Ah, yes, well... wait! Too?  
  
Now it was Harry's turn to blush. Ah, yeah.  
  
The two wizards stared at each other in disbelief for a moment. I take it that not many people know about you, then? Remus finally asked his student.  
  
Er... well... just you. And my boyfriend.  
  
Remus raised his eyebrows. Well, well, well. Then he grinned. Don't worry, secret's safe with me.  
  
Thanks. Same here. I... well, with everything else going on, it just didn't seem to be like quite the right time to share the information with anyone.  
  
Remus nodded. I quite understand. To be honest, it was never necessary for Sirius and I to tell anyone, really, although there are those who guessed. We were already close friends, so spending time together wasn't considered odd – especially when James began dating Lily.  
  
Well, we don't really have that smokescreen, which makes it a little harder – not to mention we're both just busy people, and in different Houses.  
  
Not a Gryffindor then?  
  
Can you really think of anyone it would be in Gryffindor? Harry paused. See? No. Besides, I have too much Slytherin in me to be with someone from Gryffindor in that way, you know? And it's not like a Slytherin would have me. He clapped a hand over his mouth as he realised he was steadily narrowing it down for his professor.  
  
Remus smirked. Tell you what, feel free to use this classroom if you need to. And I won't tell anyone about you and... the mystery Hufflepuff-or-Ravenclaw.  
  
Harry sighed, but smiled. Thanks. We'll be sure to put adequate locking charms on if we use this room, just in case you drop by.  
  
He left the room, feeling exhausted, and knowing he still had Quidditch practise to go. He manage to put together a practise that involved him hovering on his broom and doing nothing else, and he brought practise to a close thirty minutes early. Alright, you lot, let's head in. We've got time to practise later, and it'll do none of us any good to fall off our brooms. Harry puncuated the statement with a wide yawn that he couldn't control, which caused the Weasleys – all three of them – to burst into unrestrained laughter, and earned him sympathetic glances from the Chasers.  
  
Hush, you three, Katie urged. Harry's got more on his plate that anyone here, and he's still managing to do a good job as Captain. Leave him alone. Harry shot her a thankful smile, and wearily trudged into the locker room behind the others.  
  
His mind was swimming – it wasn't even two months into his fifth year, and he was dealing with finding out his real father was Severus Snape, he was gay, and being both a Prefect and Quidditch Captain, and Voldemort was actually being quiet so far – but he was still stretched to a breaking point. Something was going to have to give, but Harry wasn't sure what.  
  
Caught up in his thoughts, Harry realised with a start that he was the only one still in the Gryffindor changing rooms. He continued to slowly get dressed, cherishing the small amount of alone time, when he heard the door squeak open. He stopped and looked towards the back of the room, where Justin suddenly appeared grinning.  
  
Justin, you nearly gave me a heart attack, Harry said, smiling. What's up?  
  
Oh, I just thought a certain over-worked boyfriend of mine might like a little pick-me-up visit. I saw you yawning out there on your broom when I was walking through the castle, he explained with a shrug.  
  
Well, then... Harry said, his tone shifting downwards as he opened his arms slightly, come here. Justin crossed the rest of the distance between them quickly, and Harry brought his lips down to meet the other boy's. Wrapped in Justin's arms, Harry could very nearly forget everything that he had to do, all of his committments, all the expectations on him. Justin was with him just because he was Harry, not for any other reason. How could he be? No one else even knew of their relationship.  
  
You're doing too much, Harry, Justin said quietly as Harry finished getting his things together to leave the changing area. I know you feel like you have to do everything, but you're exhausted. I don't know why no one else hasn't noticed, I really don't, but you... you're like a shadow of yourself.  
  
Harry smiled tightly. He knew Justin was only looking out for him. I know, Just, but what can I do? The only things that seem expendable are my extra Defense lessons, my time with my father, and my time with you. And I don't want to give you up, or my father, and I need those Defense lessons.  
  
You need to be awake to use the stuff you're learning, Harry! Look, I'm sorry if I'm overstepping any bounds here, but... I don't want to see you like this. I... it hurts me to see you like this. Please, Harry, drop something. Anything. Anything but me, that is, he added hastily, with a quick smile.  
  
Harry smiled and pulled Justin to his side as they walked out of the changing rooms. I'll think about it, okay? I don't make any promises, but I'll think about it.   
  
Justin smiled and gave his cheek a quick kiss. That's all I can ask for. Now, I'd better run – I have that Transfiguration essay due in the morning.  
  
Harry clapped a hand to his head. Cripes, I do too. See you in class tomorrow afternoon.  
  
See you.  
  
Harry walked up to Gryffindor Tower, still tired, but considerably happier than he had been at the end of Quidditch practise, which Ron immediately noticed.  
  
Harry! You seem much happier now than you did at practise. What's up?  
  
What? Oh, nothing. I just got some good advice. Harry smiled as he collapsed onto the couch and began to work on his Transfiguartion assignment. About trying to cut back a little, maybe.  
  
Cut back? Ron asked blankly.  
  
Hermione rolled her eyes. I think we've been spending too little time with Harry if you didn't realise how exhausted he is. I don't think that Harry has a single free moment all week long.  
  
Harry smiled sadly. No, I don't. I actually wrote out my schedule a week or two ago and it's basically all full. And, yes, I'm basically exhausted.  
  
Hermione turned pink. Um, actually Harry, I, ah, found your schedule the other day – it dropped out of your bag, and I looked at it before I stuck it back in.  
  
Harry felt his face flame, and was grateful that Ron was still half-absorbed by the chess game he was half-heartedly playing with Neville. Um, thanks, Hermione. Uh... Harry was trying to think of a way to ask her to keep her mouth shut, but nicely.  
  
Not a problem, and I, uh, will. Harry smiled his relief at her. She would have known that Justin's additions weren't Harry's handwriting, but Harry hoped she hadn't been able to discern even gender beyond that.  
  
Harry finally finished the last of his assignment and was headed up to bed, yawning repeatedly, and trying to decide what to do. He couldn't change his courseload, and he wasn't about to give up playing Quidditch. Being a prefect wasn't that much work, plus it was something that he, Ron, and Hermione all did together still. Then he smiled. He could forego some of the Defense lessons – like Mondays and Wednesdays, his mind thought, when Justin's free – and Ron was excellent at strategy. Why couldn't Ron be the Quidditch Captain? He was already doing all the strategy plans for Harry anyway – why not get the recogntion?  
  
Smiling, Harry entered the dorm. Ron! You still awake? he whispered.  
  
Harry? Yeah, mate, what's up? Ron poked his head through the curtains and Harry went to sit down beside him on the bed.   
  
Listen, what I was saying about needing to cut back – well, you saw how tired I was at practise tonight. There's a lot of things I won't give up – I mean, I'm not going to quit playing Quidditch, and it's a lot of fun being a prefect with you and Hermione, but there is something I can give up.  
  
  
  
The Quidditch captaincy, Harry said with a large sigh.  
  
Harry, are you crazy? I'd kill to be Quidditch captain!  
  
Well, you don't have to, Harry said laughingly. Because I'm giving it to you. Effective now. No he held up a hand No protests. Either I give it straight to you or we have to go to McGonagall and it'll take a week or so to get things sorted out again, and then we'll be behind in preparing for the first match. Trust me, I much prefer things this way.  
  
Ron was gaping at him in astonishment. If... if you're sure, Harry...  
  
I'm sure, Harry said with a smile. I'll call a quick team meeting for after dinner tomorrow and we can tell them then. Oh, and you can tell Hermione before that, he teased. Ron blushed bright red and playfully punched Harry on the shoulder before they both yawned.  
  
Guess we need to go to bed, Ron said sleepily.  
  
Harry agreed. See you tomorrow, Mr. Captain, sir!  
  
Ron laughed and pulled the curtains tight around his bed once more.  
  
  
The next day in Herbology, Harry smiled happily and leaned over to whisper in Justin's ear. You are talking to one EX-Quidditch Captain. I'm back to just being Seeker, he explained happily.  
  
Justin's eyes lit up, but his words were cautious. Are you sure about that?  
  
Harry nodded. Positive. Ron's going to take over. He was doing half the work, at least, anyway.  
  
Justin nodded, and smiled then. That's great. That's something off your plate.  
  
Harry's smile grew wider, and as Professor Sprout called the class to order, he quickly sprawled out a note to Justin, which read Not only that, but I'm going to drop my Monday and Wednesday Defense lessons. I think that Herbology' might get to take up a bit more of my time now.  
  
Justin quickly scanned the note and grinned. Starting tomorrow? he mouthed, and Harry nodded vigorously. He added a quick P.S. – Meet me outside the Defense classroom. Justin's eyebrow quirked with a question, and Harry just nodded reassuringly. Then they turned their attention back to Professor Sprout's lecture.  
  
That night, just before Harry's Defense lesson, the Gryffindor Quidditch Team assembled in one corner of the common room.  
  
What's up, Harry? asked Fred (or George, Harry wasn't sure).  
  
Harry began, I think you've all noticed that I'm running ragged, to say the least. The others nodded. So... I decided to hand the captaincy over to Ron, unless any of you have a major problem with it. If we do it internally, versus going to McGonagall, I think that will be better.  
  
The others were quiet, stunned or shocked, Harry thought. Harry, are... are you sure? George finally asked.  
  
Harry nodded vigorously. Positive. Ron was already doing half the work anyway, and I'm just spread too thin. It's a relief, really.  
  
Well, I think you're nutters, Fred said, but if that's what you want, no problem. Then he smiled at his younger brother. Congratulations, Ron.  
  
The others were soon congratulating Ron and Harry slipped out to meet Remus for his Defense lesson.  
  
Remus, before we begin, I need to talk to you.  
  
What is it, Harry? Remus' voice was concerned.  
  
I need to cut back on these extra lessons. I'm stretched way too thin. I was wondering if I could skip the Monday and Wednesday ones from now on.  
  
Well, Harry, as you know, you may need these skills...  
  
Yes, but I need to be awake and healthy to use them, Harry cut in, as someone pointed out to me yesterday.  
  
Remus raised his eyebrows slightly, then nodded. Alright, then. We'll continue the lessons, but not on Mondays or Wednesdays. Any particular reason for those days? Harry just grinned and didn't say a word as Remus began the lesson.  
  
After that, there was just one more difficult conversation to go – telling his father what all he had done that day. He made his way down the dungeons and sat down in front of his father's desk.  
  
Hello, Harry. Anything interesting happen today?  
  
Harry smiled. Actually, yes.  
  
  
  
Well, a few people were pointing out to me that I looked more like the Boy Who Was the Walking Dead than the Boy Who Lived. Sev raised his eyebrows in amusement. So I decided to... cut back a little bit.  
  
Cut back?  
  
Well, my schedule literally had no holes whatsoever in it, between all my responsibilities. So... I resigned as Quidditch Captain and cut my extra Defense tuition in half.  
  
Are you sure that you want to do that? Sev asked finally after several moments of silence.  
  
Harry said firmly. I can't do everything, and my nerves are frayed. It doesn't do me any good to have a huge repertoire of curses and hexes if I fall asleep in the middle of a duel, or I mispronounce one because I'm so tired. And... well, somedays, I'd like to just be a normal teenager.  
  
Sev smiled at his son then. Only worrying about school, Quidditch, and girls, then? he joked. Harry smiled weakly. Let me tell you a secret – there has to be some advantage to having me as your father, right? Albus is planning to announce another Yule Ball this year, to be held just before the holidays begin. He's not announcing it officially until Halloween, but this way you know you would be the first to ask... He winked, and Harry attempted to looked pleased with the information. He managed to steer the rest of their conversation on to other topics, but groaned at the timetable he had been presented with. As the Boy Who Lived, no matter what his last name, he would undoubtedly be expected by everyone to have a date for the Yule Ball. To make matters worse, Hermione had told Harry only a few days ago that he had managed to finally beat out Draco Malfoy for the top spot on the Unofficial Hot Guys At Hogwarts list, which practically ensured that he would have plenty of girls asking him to the ball. Evidently, his new look was deemed to be sexy' by the majority of the female population. It was enough to make his head spin in agony as he walked straight from the dungeons to his bed.


	8. Halloween (or, That Always Means Trouble...

_A/N: Bumps! Bumps! The road gets harder here. Comments on reviews at the end._  
  
  
It was Halloween, as always, when the bottom dropped out of Harry's life. No one at Hogwarts got _Witch Weekly_, as it was more like a Mrs. Weasley-type magazine, but she herself had clipped an article from the issue that had arrived just the day before, and sent it express owl to Harry. It arrived with his breakfast – and made him lose his appetite.  
  
The Boy Who Lived – He Bats For the Other Team, read the headline, and Harry's mouth went dry as he scanned the pages. He had been wrong about Justin all along, completely wrong. What was worse, Justin probably thought he wouldn't know about the article, since it was in _Witch Weekly_. He returned to the beginning and read the article in greater detail. Apparently, Justin had arranged to have pictures made – Harry reddened when he remembered the occasions – and had made detailed notes about his and Harry's rendevous. Harry thanked his lucky stars that he hadn't done anything stupid like tell Justin about Snuffles. The last part of the article contained several quotes from anonymous students,' and Harry realised that Justin had done a very, very good job. The pictures were done so that you couldn't tell who Harry was kissing, just that it was a boy, and the person who wrote the article didn't use his real name. Still, there were details that absolutely no one else could've known, unless they were stalking both him and Justin, and Harry rather thought he would've noticed that at some point. Besides, the author hinted at the existence of the invisibility cloak. To make matters worse, the article went into some detail about Harry's rather... unusual parentage, and the fact that he wasn't really a Potter, but a Snape, a son of a Death Eater, as the article termed it.  
  
Harry saw red. Both him, and his father? He handed the article to Ron. This isn't the way I would've told you two, but it's not like I planned this, hmm? I've got to go take care of a fag, he snarled, standing up and striding over to the Hufflepuff table.  
  
Finch-Fletchley, a word, he all but growled, causing a startled Justin to look at him, faking innocence.  
  
Harry? What's wrong?  
  
Harry smiled, a sickly, humorless gesture. You know exactly what's wrong, you creep. Do you want to discuss it in here or in the corridor?  
  
What are you talking about, Harry? Still playing innocent.  
  
Ah... an article, actually. An article in _Witch Weekly_. I just want to know – was the whole thing a set up, or did the idea just occur to you after everything started?  
  
Justin paled, and stood quickly. We'll go outside.  
  
What, don't want the rest of your friends to know what you did? Isn't one of Hufflepuff's virtues supposed to be _loyalty_, Justin?  
  
Justin stood and walked out of the room, a furious Harry stalking evenly behind him. By now the rest of the Hall was watching them, aside from Hermione, who was reading, and Ron, who had finished scanning the article. He passed it on to Hermione, and then realised that Justin must've been the author. And Ron got almost as angry as Harry had been. So what if Harry was gay? So what if he was the Boy Who Lived? He was Ron's best friend, and dammit if anyone was going to pull that shit on Harry. And Harry had only found his father, regardless of what the world might think. He turned to Hermione, who had also scanned the article. Oh, no, she whimpered. Poor Harry. It's going to get out here soon, you know that...  
  
I know that, but I think I also know the root of the problem? Ron said grimly.  
  
Hermione's gaze immediately shot to the Slytherin table, but Malfoy looked just as clueless as the rest of the student body who had just watched a furious Harry Potter and a quailing Justin Finch-Fletchley leave the hall. she asked, mystified, as she had had her head buried in a book during Harry's discussion with the Hufflepuff.   
  
Come with me, Ron instructed, and soon the two of them were headed out of the hall, Hermione carefully placing the article in her pocket first.   
  
  
Meanwhile, Harry had unleased his fist on Justin's chin and eye, and had used the full-body bind to keep him from moving while Harry let Justin know exactly how he felt, and how Justin would be Very Sorry that he had ever, ever crossed Harry Snape. At that moment, Hermione and Ron came on the scene, and none of them noticed the blond Slytherin who lurked in the shadows, listening to every word.  
  
Ron said. Do you need any help beating him up?  
  
Harry looked up, slightly surprised. I don't think he's worth any more than one of us getting into trouble over. Of course, if I was careful, I might could even get out of any trouble, but I doubt it.  
  
Hermione grinned. You underestimate yourself, Harry. Remember, you look like your father now, and, well.  
  
Harry grinned with sudden understanding, but it quickly disappeared as he turned back to the magically-bound boy in front of him. That's another bone I have to pick with you, you bloody arse. Bad enough to pick on me, and fine if you don't like my father, but you should _not_ have stated that he's a Death Eater. If there's one thing that even Malfoy's picked up on through the years, it's that you don't. insult. my. family. Is that clear? He bared his teeth ferociously, and the Hufflepuff let out a whimper. Harry sighed and ran a hand through his hair, which had come undone from its customary ponytail. He really didn't understand how this had happened. Wasn't something like this supposed to be a Slytherin plot?  
  
He undid the bind but kept his wand trained on the boy. Would you care to offer any explanations?  
  
the blond boy stammered. I... it wasn't... I mean. It wasn't like I didn't have fun, but... my parents, they needed some extra money, and I...  
  
Oh, get out of my sight, Harry said coldly. And don't even think about going crying to a professor about your black eye, or I'll make sure that everyone in the wizarding community knows who wrote that article.  
  
Justin scampered away, and his movements made Harry's eyes narrow. Why didn't I ever notice that he reminds me of Pettigrew? he said, half to himself.  
  
Probably because you generally aren't suspicious by nature, Hermione offered. Now, c'mon, let's get to class. You've probably got at least a day before this gets around to the rest of the school. The article I mean.  
  
Oh, about that, Harry said softly. Like I said, it's not how I would have chosen to tell you, but...  
  
Harry, it doesn't matter, Ron said firmly. It might to some people, but it doesn't to me, and it doesn't to Hermione. I mean, we're still your friends even though you're Snape's son! That's far worse, he joked, earning him a glare and a light punch, before the trio laughed and headed to their morning classes.  
  
Draco Malfoy emerged from his hiding place, clearly confused. What article? What had that all been about? Granger had been right about one thing, he decided. Pot – no, Snape. Ew. That just didn't work right. Harry did underestimate himself, and he could do a fine imitation of his father. Perhaps it was time for Draco Malfoy to reassess Harry Snape.  
  
  
Harry headed towards Potions class reluctantly, just before lunch. He had gotten the article back from Hermione, and he intended to give it to his father, so he would have some warning before the shit hit the fan, so to speak. He had really hoped to avoiding coming out to his father for awhile, thinking that he would rather feel a little more secure in their father-son dynamic before Harry asked him to deal with the whole other set of issues that stemmed from having a gay son.  
  
At the end of class, Harry hesitantly approached his father's desk. I got an owl this morning, from Mrs. Weasley, with a magazine clipping in it. I think... I think you should read it, since it'll probably hit Hogwarts tomorrow or the next day, and it's about me. You're mentioned, too, and this isn't how I wanted to tell you this, but... here, he shoved the folded article into his father's hands and fled the room, feeling very un-Gryffindorish at the moment. Bravery, he thought. Shows how brave I am, I can't even tell him face to face!  
  
Harry picked at his food during lunch, noting that his father still hadn't appeared from the dungeons. He grimaced. Probably trying to figure out how to put that charm back on and claim it was all a bad joke, so he doesn't have to accept it, Harry thought morosely. He was brought back to the present when Seamus sat down across from him.  
  
Harry, what was going on this morning? You seemed really upset, Seamus asked nonchalantly.  
  
Harry sighed. What the hell, everyone's going to know in a day or two. He sat back slightly. There's an article in this week's_ Witch Weekly_ about me, about my... sexual orientation. And about my father, but that's more incidental. You know, just a couple of paragraphs on the Death Eater Dad'.  
  
Seamus' eyes widened. But... who would have known and then told someone? Did Malfoy or someone find out?  
  
Harry shook his head. I wish. No, my EX-boyfriend decided to sell me out. Of course, he wasn't my ex until this morning, but, hey, Harry shrugged.  
  
Harry stood up then, frowning. They had Herbology after lunch, and he was still partnered with Justin. Then a smirk crossed his face as he left the hall, a smirk that only three people noticed – Albus Dumbledore, Sev, who had just entered the room, and Draco Malfoy. All three knew it meant something interesting was going to happen.  
  
Harry went back to Gryffindor Tower quickly, grinning to himself. Ananda had been complaining about not getting to see the rest of Hogwarts lately, and the only people aware of her obedience not to attack unless commanded were all Gryffindors. The subject of Harry's pet snake had never come up with Justin, but Harry was certain that Justin well-remembered being Petrified by the basilisk in their second year.   
  
He approached Ananda's tank. Hello, sssweetheart. You want to come to classss with me thisss afternoon?  
  
Harry would have sworn that he felt her mood improve. Yesss. Do I need to attack anyone? I ssensse anger.  
  
No, no attacks, Ananda. Just sscaring sssomeone for me.  
  
Ananda was even larger than she had been when Harry had received her, and she slithered up onto his arm, wrapping herself firmly around it. Before, she occupied only his forearm, but now she required half his upper arm as well. Dumbledore had agreed that Harry could take Ananda to any class, periodically, so Harry knew that Professor Sprout wouldn't mind. In fact, Ananda might be able to catch the one or two of the large rats that plagued the greenhouse for the kindly professor. Smiling, Harry grabbed his schoolbag and headed down the common room, where Hermione and Ron were waiting.  
  
Harry, what were you doing, we're going to be late to – oh! Hello, Ananda, Hermione said, peering cautiously at the snake. She's grown since I saw her last, she said simply, addressing Harry.  
  
Ron grinned. I take it you decided a little object lesson was in order for one Finch-Fletchley?  
  
  
  
The trio walked through the halls and onto the lawn, and Harry mused quietly about their project. I'd do it all myself, if I could, but I certainly can't work with him now, he said.   
  
Well, we're early, Hermione said matter-of-factly. Go offer Ananda's services at rat-catching, and ask Professor Sprout what you should do.  
  
Harry squared his shoulders and went to do just that.  
  
Professor Sprout? May I speak with you for a moment before class, please?  
  
What? Oh, hello, Harry, certainly. And this is your snake?  
  
Yes, her name's Ananda. I was going to let her try to catch one or two of those rats for you, if that's alright.  
  
Of course! I'd be only too happy to get rid of them. One of them, especially, seems too smart. Looks old, too. A light clicked in his brain, and he instructed Ananda to merely stun each rat physically and bring them back to him to inspect for injecting them with venom. You'd better sit down now, Harry, class is about to start..  
  
Harry reluctantly sat in his accustomed seat; he would have to partner with Justin for at least one more period. Still, he made sure that, today, Justin had to do the vitals on the Devil's Snare, which Harry usually took care of, rather than the essentially benign aloe vera plant. The two boys steadfastly ignored one another throughout the class, and Justin didn't notice Ananda bringing back a pair of rats for she had caught for Harry to inspect before she ate them. Harry examined both of them. All of their toes were intact, and there was no silvery paw.He smiled at his snake, praised her, and told her to go ahead and kill and eat them. Then she slithered off once more.   
  
Justin did, however, notice a few minutes later when Ananda returned to Harry and curled oblingingly around his left arm, which was forced into close proximity with Justin by the size of the workdesk. Justin promptly fainted.  
  
However, no one noticed, so Harry calmly woke the other boy back up and continued ignoring him. Justin had gone pasty white, and practically fled the greenhouse as soon as class was over. Harry stood and approached Professor Sprout. Ananda caught two rats today, ma'am. If it's alright, I'd like to bring her back here each class? She gets tired of kitchen food.  
  
Of course, Professor Sprout smiled kindly. She noticed Harry's hestitation to leave. Was there anything else, Harry?  
  
Yes, I'm afraid so, Harry frowned. I... made the mistake of getting close to my partner for our project, and now he's, well, he sold me out, quite literally. In the pages of _Witch Weekly_. Even a nice snippet or two about my Death Eater Dad.' Needless to say,  
  
You don't want to work with him anymore, Professor Sprout finished. She smiled sadly at the boy in front of her. I get that magazine you know, but I didn't realise that's who it was. I'm sorry, Harry, no one deserves that. Starting next class, why don't you join Ron and Hermione, and take the aloe plant, since they have the other devil's snare. Justin can take your devil's snare and either work alone or join another group.  
  
Thank you, ma'am, Harry said, smiling. Then he ran to catch up with his two best friends and told him of the rearrangement.  
  
Did you talk to your dad, Harry? Hermione asked quietly.  
  
Harry said, slightly ashamed. I gave him the article though. I thought I'd go by before dinner. Not that I want to, but...  
  
It'll work out, Harry, Hermione said confidently, but there was a worried look in her eyes that didn't match her words.  
  
  
  
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_Comments on reviews: After reading everyone begging for Harry/Draco, and listening to my own muses, I knew I couldn't continue with the Harry/Justin pairing, but it serves an important purpose. More to tthe point, a relationship between Harry and Draco involves an entire other set of issues in addition to being Snape's son and being gay. So... sometime in the future, we'll have slashy goodness between Harry and the oh-so-sexy Slytherin, but for now... it's torture Harry time.   
  
Thanks for all the reviews, though, they're lovely!!!_


	9. Hits the Fan

_A/N: Um.. yeah. This is getting kind of brutal. Not for the faint of heart. Severus is ashamed and disgusted, and he's _related _to Harry. So what would others' reactions be? ::nods::   
_  
  
Harry trudged towards the dungeons just before the Halloween feast. At that moment, no one knew of the article but himself, his father, Ron, Hermione, and, of course, Justin. Harry fully intended to enjoy what could be his last peaceful meal for a time. First, though, he had to visit his father.  
  
He reached the office door and knocked. The door opened slightly, and Harry stuck his head in. he called softly, but there was no answer. Then something caught his eye on his father's desk – a letter, with his name on it. Frowning, Harry crossed the room and pocketed the letter, taking it with him to the main stairs, where he sat and opened it.  
  
  
_Harry,  
  
While you probably feel that we should have some sort of talk or bonding moment over the betrayal you feel over the article, et cetera, let this letter serve notice that nothing of the sort will be happening. I could put aside some of the more odious aspects of your personality, such as being a Gryffindor, but this – Harry, you are asking an awful lot of me. Too much, too soon.  
  
I suggest it would be wise if we did not see each other over much over the next few weeks. I will contact you when I am ready to talk. However, I am kind enough not to repudiate you in public; rest assured that my public persona will not be noticeably altered.  
  
If you find my words harsh... well... they are far less harsh that what I yelled when I finished that disgusting article.  
  
Severus Snape_  
  
  
Harry winced, and his face visibly crumpled. He had finally found a father, some semblance of a family, and now it was to be taken away from him, and over something he truly had no choice in. Afraid that his face would betray his pain, he hastened to the boys' room that was near by, and locked himself into the far stall, where he quietly cried out his pain. Life, it seemed, just kept getting worse and worse for him.  
  
  
Some time later, he emerged from the room and went to the Hall for the Halloween Feast that was just about to start. Hermione and Ron had saved him a seat, and he sank into it gratefully.   
  
What happened? Hermione hissed in his ear.  
  
Harry frowned. He wasn't there, but he left a letter.  
  
Ron winced. That can't be good.  
  
No. No, it wasn't, Harry agreed heavily. Here. You two might as well read it yourselves.   
  
The pair scanned the letter quickly, Hermione winced, and Ron let out a low under his breath.  
  
Ouch is right, Harry said. I can hardly wait until the news starts hitting the rest of Hogwarts, if my _father_ reacts like this.  
  
  
  
Unfortunately for Harry, he was right.  
  
The next morning at breakfast, Draco saw a familiar owl – his father's – come in with a... magazine? Draco was confused, until he turned to the marked page. As he scanned the article, he realised what the scene in the hallway yesterday had been about. It was relatively clear what, precisely, he was supposed to do – spread the word around Hogwarts that Harry Snape was queer. Complicating his mission was that he himself was bisexual, so he really didn't feel like insulting gay people. Scowling, he settled for leaving the magazine open on the Slytherin table when he left the Hall. That would do the job, and he wouldn't feel like he was slamming himself.  
  
Harry heard whispers just before lunch, in Care for Magical Creatures. It was, somewhat surprisingly to Harry, not Malfoy that approached him, however. Instead, it was Pansy Parkinson, who timed her confrontation carefully – no Gryffindors besides himself and Ron close by, but most of the Slytherins could hear her.  
  
So? Is it true, the Boy Who Lived is a pouf?  
  
Harry stiffened, then looked at her directly. Are you asking me if I'm gay? he said quietly. If so, then the answer is yes, I am gay.  
  
Her eyes widened; Harry let himself smile inwardly as he realised she had expected him to grow angry or deny it altogether.   
  
After a minute, though, Pansy regained her equilibrium. I wonder what your daddy thinks of that, she said snidely. Bad enough to find out he sired a Gryffindor, but now his only son, his bastard son, is queer, too.  
  
Harry's face darkened, and it was only Ron whispering ignore her, ignore her, ignore her under his breath that kept him from getting angry. The problem with her taunt was that it hit all too close to home. Pansy smiled then, a cruel, knowing smile, and turned on her heel and walked away.   
  
At lunch, the magazine was dropped onto the Ravenclaw table, as it had made the rounds with most of Slytherin House by that point. The Ravenclaws passed the article around, and Harry began to get odd looks and glances from that direction as well. Harry sighed as he left the Hall. He had to run back to Gryffindor Tower to get some more parchment before his afternoon classes.  
  
He was on his way out of Gryffindor, headed to History of Magic, when it happened. Rough hands grabbed the back of his robes, hauling him into a darkened, abandoned classroom. Then the first punches were thrown, and he was on the floor, the recipient of several kicks to his torso and groin. His attackers growled out a few common-variety slurs against gays, then left suddenly when footsteps were heard in the corridors. Harry stood up shakily and peered cautiously out of the doorway. No one was in the hall. Good. Luckily, the boys' washroom was just two doors down, and Harry crept painfully down the hall to its door. He closed the door and put a locking spell on it before turning to assess the damage.  
  
Torn robe – mending charm. Check. Torn jumper, again, mending charm. Check. Black eye. Hmm. Harry didn't know any healing charms to speak of. Ah. Illusion charm. He'd ask Hermione for help later, maybe, with healing it. He cast the same illusion charm over his split lip, and then rearranged his hair so he didn't look like he had been lying on the floor getting beat up. He was pretty sure that if he told anyone about the attack, that things would only get worse, and if he went to Madam Pomfrey, she would have to tell Professor Dumbledore, or at the very least Professor McGonagall, as his Head of House. Or, Harry thought sourly, she'd tell my father, and I'd have to talk to him, which definitely wouldn't be a good plan at this point. Sighing, Harry glanced at his watch. He had just enough time to get to History of Magic – although the old ghost rarely took off points.  
  
Harry slid into his seat just before Binns began to lecture, and Ron raised his eyebrows questioningly as Hermione hissed at Harry. Where have you been? she whispered furiously.  
  
Harry shook his head, mouthing tell you later as he got out his parchment and quill. If he was going to be a disappointment in so many other ways, then he might as well try to get decent marks, he supposed.  
  
Immediately after Binns finished lecturing, Hermione and Ron turned to him. Why were you late? Hermione asked. You should have had plenty of time!  
  
Ah, let's go someplace private, Harry replied. The trio quickly found an empty classroom. Harry dropped himself carefully into one of the seats, then pointed his wand at himself and removed the illusion charms. I was busy getting beaten up, then trying to clean myself up.  
  
His friends gasped when his injuries revealed themselves. Oh, Harry, Hermione said, stricken, and Ron's face clouded with anger.  
  
Do you know who did this? he said shortly.  
  
Harry replied with a heavy sigh. And I have the feeling that reporting it to one of the teachers would only make things worse. Don't go blaming the Slytherins either – they don't know what my dad's reaction would be, and by now the whole school could have seen the article.  
  
Ron frowned, then nodded. You're right. They wouldn't want to cross Snape, at least not until they had a better idea of what he would do or say. I doubt it was a Gryffindor, though; I'd hate to think someone from your own house would do this to you.  
  
I'd hate to think _anyone_ at Hogwarts would do this to Harry, Hermione said in a resigned tone, but that was obviously too much to hope for. She turned to Harry. I can heal your lip and your eye. Do you have any other injuries? I'll have to see them.  
  
Grimacing, Harry nodded and undid his robes before removing his jumper and pulling up his undershirt to reveal several splotchy bruises on his chest and abdomen. He heard a sharp intake of breath from Hermione before she began murmuring the healing charms over him. When she was done, she straightened and sighed. You can put your clothes back on now. Really, you should go and rest, but if you miss a class, it will just make things worse, I wager. Luckily we only have Transfiguration left.  
  
Ron said suddenly. Can you start to carry Ananda around, at least when you have to walk by yourself? I know she can't attack anyone, but her very presence would at least be a surprise.  
  
Harry started to nod, but then frowned. It's a good idea, but if they figure out that she won't attack, it could get her hurt or killed.  
  
Ron gasped. You think... you really think that someone would do that to her?  
  
Ron, she's a snake. The symbol of Slytherin House, remember? That makes the Slytherins mad that I'm a parselmouth, and the rest of the school angry that it might be an evil thing, and maybe I'm evil too, especially with this, and being Snape's son. People get beat up or worse for being gay in some places in the Muggle world. Uncle Vernon is a homophobe, and not even one of the most extreme. For something that's not a choice, I sure wish I had one! Harry heaved himself to his feet. Let's go, we don't want McGonagall to dock points.  
  
The trio left for Transfiguration, which, for Harry, was followed that evening by Quidditch practise, but, thankfully, no extra Defense tuition. He made sure to walk down to the pitch with Ron, but practise was delayed when he was peppered with questions by the rest of the team.  
  
Harry, what they're saying, up at the school... is it true? Fred asked. I mean, it doesn't matter to me, but if it's not true, then we've got some retribution to dish out.  
  
Harry shook his head, but allowed a small smile to cross his lips. No, it's true. The only revenge that needs to be taken is on one person, and I'm working on that myself.  
  
People aren't being prattish about this, are they? Katie Bell asked, concerned.  
  
Harry shook his head. Don't worry about it, guys. I promise I'll be well to play in all our matches.  
  
Angelina's eyes widened. She wasn't Head Girl for nothing. she said warningly, does that mean what I think it means?  
  
Um... no? Harry said hopefully.  
  
What do you think it means? George asked, confused.  
  
I think it means that someone, or more than one someone, has been expressing their disapproval of Harry's orientation with their fists.  
  
The others gasped, and Harry maintained a poker glance, but Ron nodded. You're right, Angelina. Seriously, guys, though, getting more people involved will make it worse. Hermione knows healing charms, and we'll be keeping an eye on him.  
  
The others only nodded worriedly, and practise began.  
  
  
The next day didn't go too badly; Harry only had to put up with rude comments, many of them to his face. Even several of his fellow Gryffindors had made comments, including Lavender and Parvati. Still, he didn't get beat up, and his father treated him the same as he always had in Potions class – the rest of the class marveled that it was as if the article had never been published. The only thing that puzzled Harry was why Malfoy hadn't said a word yet. Well, that, and he wondered when he would start receiving Howlers. He was relieved to have an excuse to see Professor Lupin that evening.  
  
He sank into a chair in Professor Lupin's office sadly. I suppose you've heard? he asked, one eyebrow cocked.  
  
Er, what? Remus asked, slightly confused. Two nights ago was the full moon, remember? So I haven't heard a thing about anything. Why? What's going on?  
  
Harry groaned. My ex-boyfriend, he began, wrote an article about our relationship, and had it published in _Witch Weekly_. Remus's eyes widened in horror. Harry continued, Thankfully, Mrs. Weasley express-owled me the clipping, so I had a day's time to, well, to steel myself, I suppose. Break up with the nasty git. That sort of thing.  
  
And how are things going now?  
  
Well, I've had insults galore, but no permanent damage to my psyche. The only weird thing is that Malfoy hasn't commented.  
  
Remus raised his eyebrows but said nothing. Taking a sip of tea, he went to the one topic Harry wished to avoid. What about your father? he asked cautiously.  
  
Harry's face fell. He... wrote me a letter. Said he didn't wish to discuss it with me for some time, he replied, almost inaudibly.  
  
Oh, Harry, Remus said. I'm so, so sorry.  
  
Harry shrugged. Well, it wasn't like it was totally unexpected, right? That was why I was waiting and everything.  
  
Yes, but still...  
  
Harry nodded. I hadn't been writing Sirius because of everything, but do you think it'd be okay if I did know?  
  
Remus nodded. I think so. Why don't you use a bit of our time to do it. Cutting the lesson short one day can't hurt.  
  
Harry smiled briefly. Then he gathered some parchment and began to write.  
  
_  
Hello, Sirius.  
  
I know we haven't talked in a bit, but this has been a _very_ odd term for me so far. Not only did I find out that Severus Snape was my father, but I figured out that I was gay.  
  
And therein lies my current problem.  
  
Yes, I know about you and Remus. I doubt you have access to _Witch Weekly_, however, so I doubt you've seen one of this week's feature articles. It's on me – and my sexual orientation.  
  
Lucky for me, I apparently make poor choices when selecting boyfriends, and said ex-boyfriend sold me out. Lovely, hmm? Now my father won't speak to me, I'm being insulted at every turn, and... well.  
  
If I tell you this next part, you must promise not to breathe a word to anyone at this school, including Remus. I fear it would only make things worse.  
  
I've been beaten up. Just once, so far, but I'm under no illusions that it will be the last. I didn't grow up in the Muggle world for nothing, and the wizarding world seems to be no different – or perhaps even worse – in that respect.  
  
Well, I don't really need a solution, I suppose, but I feel better for writing this all out.  
  
Harry_  
  
  
Satisified, Harry folded the letter and set it beside his schoolbag. He would go by the Owlery after he finished his lesson with Remus.  
  
A sweaty and rather exhausted Harry left Remus's office some time later, and went straight to the Owlery. He sent the letter off with Hedwig, and stayed there a moment, just breathing in the night air. As the sweat dried and his body rested, Harry could almost forget the events of the past few days. Almost.  
  
He was nearly back to Gryffindor Tower when he was attacked again. The shadows mostly hid their faces but he made out enough to see that his attackers weren't all from one house. There must've been six or seven, at least, and he was certain that he saw ties and crests from all four Houses. It was nearly half an hour later before the attackers left him, and nearly an hour after that before Harry regained consciousness. He groaned. Why had no one noticed he was gone? Then it hit him. Normally he spent this time with his father, in the dungeons, and that included returning late at times. Ron and Hermione probably thought he had tried to go patch things up.  
  
Harry carefully got to his feet, but found he couldn't put weight on his right ankle, and his left wrist stuck out at a funny angle. He managed to get halfway down the hall before collapsing again. Sighing, he dragged himself into an alcove and waited, hoping Ron and Hermione would have the good sense to use the Marauders' Map to find him. Then he passed out.  
  
  
Meanwhile, Ron and Hermione had started to get slightly worried.   
  
I thought that Snape told Harry not to come down to the dungeons for a bit, Hermione remarked worriedly, her lips pursed.  
  
Yeah, he did, Ron answered casually as he scribbled away at his star chart.   
  
So, it's past time for his tuition with Professor Lupin to be over, but Harry's not back yet.  
  
I'm sure he's fine, replied Ron patiently. Probably wanted to talk to Remus, since he's been another father figure.  
  
I suppose you're right, Hermione said uncertainly. But if he hasn't returned by curfew, we might should check the map.  
  
Ron nodded, and the two returned to their work.  
  
It was past curfew, however, before either reach a stopping point in their work, and they immediately realised that their friend was not back. Their gazes met. This was bad, they thought, very bad. As one, they sprinted up the stairs to the fifth year boys' dormitory, and rifled through Harry's trunk for the Marauders' Map and the invisibility cloak.   
  
I solemnly swear that I am up to no good! Ron blurted out frantically, causing the other boys to look up in confusion.  
  
Guys? What's going on? Seamus asked.  
  
We can't find Harry, Hermione replied tersely.  
  
Oh. Well, he's probably off with Snape, right?  
  
Ron replied. Not today. And... bloody hell. Mione, what does it mean if the dot is flickering?  
  
Hermione felt the blood drain from her face. Nothing good. She twirled to face the other three boys. Do any of you know any healing spells, any at all?  
  
Seamus shrugged. A few basic ones. I borrowed a book from my mum last summer.  
  
Hermione said crisply. You'd better come with us. She shook out the invisibility cloak. Come on, get under it, she urged him. Harry's in trouble!  
  
Seamus bolted upright and joined the two under the cloak as they raced from Gryffindor Tower to his location, the dot flickering in and out.  
  
When they reached Harry, it was all Hermione could do not to scream. Ron swore, and Seamus retched onto the floor. Harry was dangerously close to not surviving, it seemed, judging by the combination of muggle and magical injuries that the boy had.  
  



	10. Aftermaths

_A/N: Couldn't leave the cliffhanger there over the weekend, specially since I'll be gone. Future chapters will return more to Severus, but we had to patch Harry up first. I got the idea of a wand holster from Midnight Blue's The Mirror of Maybe, although I changed where it would go. _  
  
  
  
whispered Hermione, and then the three were accompanying Harry's battered body back to Gryffindor Tower.   
  
They did... all of that... just because Harry's gay? Seamus asked in a shaky voice. Why... why do they even care?  
  
I don't know, replied Hermione sadly. I don't know. Ron merely shook his head and continued pounding his fist into his palm.  
  
They reached Gryffindor Tower, and the Fat Lady gasped at the sight of Harry. Oh, my dears, what has happened to our Mr. Potter?  
  
He's been beaten up, Ron replied grimly. Ma'am, please don't tell anyone. Harry would be embarassed. What an understatement, thought Ron. If word got out, they might kill him the next time.  
  
Yes, yes, of course. Mum's the word. Oh, do take care of him! she called as the portrait shut behind them, and they were in the relative safety of Gryffindor Tower.  
  
Our dorms, Ron said decisively. Seamus, run ahead and turn down his bed, open the door, and get some towels, washclothes, hot and cold water in the basins. Get Dean and Neville to help you.  
  
I don't think I'll be getting Neville's help, Seamus replied quietly. He was out this evening, and he had scraped knuckles when he returned. Until we know any better, he's a suspect.  
  
Ron and Hermione's eyes were wide as saucers as Seamus hurried up the stairs. said Hermione in a scandalised tone. I never would have thought...  
  
Ron shook his head. Neither would I.  
  
They entered the dorm, and saw Dean casting a sleeping charm on Neville's bed, and a silencing charm around the entire dorm. Seamus came bustling out of the bathroom, requested supplies leviating in front of him. Carefully, Hermione lowered Harry onto his bed, and Ron began removing his robes. He paused, then looked at each of the others.   
  
We're going to have to remove all his clothing. I don't think he'll wake up before we replace at least his underwear, and if he ever asks, I changed his underwear, but none of the rest of us saw a thing. Got it? The others nodded, and Ron continued removing Harry's clothing.  
  
Once the extent of his injuries was seen, Hermione was even less sure of herself, but the others were looking to her to direct his healing. Right. Dean, could you remove any remaining curses or hexes? Seamus, basic healing spells on the lesser injuries. Ron, I need you to help me with these. She pointed a shaky finger to the gashes in Harry's body. Luckily none had severed a major organ or blood vessel, and luckily Hermione had taken an advanced biological sciences course before she left Muggle schooling.  
  
The four went to work on their friend, and it was past two am before they paused in their work. Seamus had began helping Dean once his job was through, and the pair were only satisified just as Ron and Hermione closed the last of the knife wounds on Harry's chest. Hermione let out a shaky sigh and sagged, Ron's arms barely catching her. Hang in there, he said softly. Look at the map; he's not flickering anymore.  
  
Yes, but he's still got injuries! Hermione cried. Look at his arm, his ankle, his leg. It's an entire other set of damages, and I don't know how to do much beyond set the broken wrist and wrap the sprain. I suppose we had best close these cuts in his leg, first, she added wearily.  
  
Seamus, who had picked up on more of the healing spells, helped Hermione with the cuts, while Ron began cleaning the dried blood off of his friend. Dean, meanwhile, having been raised by Muggles, was able to wrap Harry's ankle with a bandage that he transfigured from one of Harry's old baggy cast-off tshirts. Ron bit his lip angrily when he found a splinter of wood underneath Harry's buttocks. Wordlessly, he picked it up and held it out to Hermione, who gaped. It was Dean who finally spoke.  
  
Their wands?  
  
I think so, Ron's voice was low and angry. I just hope Harry was already unconscious then.  
  
Keep it, Seamus said. It's not much to go on, but the kind of wood is a clue, at least.  
  
Ron nodded and placed it carefully inside the drawer of his own bedside table, then returned to washing Harry's body carefully.  
  
Around 2:30, Hermione began the last part of their delicate operation. It was the part she was also the most unsure about – setting Harry's wrist. She murmured to herself, transfigured objects, and sent the boys for more water and some things from the kitchen. She was exhausted when she finally sat down on Ron's bed, the procedure complete. Someone should cast an illusion charm on the cast and the bandage, she said weakly, before falling over, driven to exhaustion herself. Ron carefully placed her in his bed and drew the covers over her. Dean cast the illusion charms, then looked at the other three.   
  
We have to be up in just three hours, he said softly. I suggest we use this time wisely. Ron, can we count on your brothers? Ron nodded. Good. We'll wake them, and they can help us examine the wands in Gryffindor, at least, for any missing a splinter. They should also know some sort of energy charm that we can use. Ron, you need to shower and change robes, and Seamus and I need to change into our robes as well. We'll do that while you shower, and cast a sleeping charm on Harry, as well as a pain-relief charm.  
  
Ron nodded slowly; Dean was right. Alright, then. Just remember, not a word about this to anyone else.  
  
Soon, the three had assembled once more, and they checked Neville's wand, just to be sure. It was intact, but his knuckles were scraped, as Seamus had said. Sadly, the three concluded that Neville could have been one of the attackers.  
  
Then Ron crept into the seventh year boys' dormitory, and shook his brothers awake. Fred, George. Wake up. I need your help. Harry needs your help.  
  
The twins were instantly awake. What's going on? Fred demanded.  
  
Some people roughed Harry up pretty badly, Ron answered, his voice shaky. We've been up all night, patching him up. One of them... one of them left a splinter, of their wand. So we want to check the wands, at least in Gryffindor, to see... He swallowed. He nearly died, Fred. If we... if we hadn't used the map... I don't know what would have happened. He was _flickering_ on it.  
  
Fred and George had risen quickly and thrown on their robes. Let's go, then, they replied. If we have to, we'll do Gryffindor tonight, and another House each subsequent night.  
  
We think one of them was Neville, because he was gone at the right time, and his knuckles are scraped, Ron told them in a low voice as they checked their own roommates. Hermione collapsed just a bit ago, she had to do most of the healing. Dean and Seamus really came through and helped us out.  
  
The twins nodded. We'll take the sixth year boys' then, and the fourth as well, if you three could each do the other three years. The boys all agreed, and they set off, reassembling in the common room.  
  
No luck, they each reported. Time to do the girls' dorms, Fred said somewhat gleefully, but George frowned slightly.   
  
We'd best be careful here. Fred, you do the fifth years. Dean, you do the seventh years, and Seamus, you do the fourth years. Ron, I'll do the sixth years if you can get both the second and third years. Whoever's done first, catch the first years. So sent, they set out, and George's face was sober when they reassembled.  
  
I found the one. One of the sixth year girls; I don't know her well. We can keep an eye on her, though, and see who she's talking to, glancing at, that kind of thing. Maybe Harry will remember something.  
  
Ron nodded, and the others agreed. It's nearly six, Ron noted. Hermione said that Lavender gets up at 6:30, which always gets up her up as well, so we'd best move Hermione back to her dorm. Fred or George, we need some energy.  
  
replied Fred, and the twins cast the spells over each of them. Sighing, Ron moved Hermione's sleeping body to her dorm, then whispered Hermione blinked and sat up.  
  
Ron? What's going on?  
  
Ron shook his head. The splinter came from one of our sixth year girls. Fred and George helped us find her. Neville probably was a part of it as well. Harry hasn't woken up yet, but you need to get changed and showered. He paused, then cast the energy charm on her, having picked up the incantation from his brother earlier. There. That should get you through today. Come back up to check on Harry after you change. With that, he left, returning to the side of his friend.  
  
It was just before seven when the six reassembled around Harry's bed. Ron had carefully put fresh underwear, t-shirt, jumper, and robes back on the small boy, and then they woke him gently. Hey, you, Ron said, voice soft.   
  
Harry's voice was confused, and he looked around the room a minute before sighing and sinking back onto the bed in relief. You found me.  
  
Yes, we did, Hermione said. And we've healed you, mostly. Your ankle is still wrapped and there's a cast on your left wrist, but there are illusion charms so no one will notice. We know... we know who two of the attackers were, and we're going to find the rest. Do you remember anything?  
  
Harry thought a moment. There were people from all four Houses there, and there were at least six or seven of them. Both genders. Beyond that, the only thing I know for sure is that none of them were Malfoy, Crabbe, or Goyle. I've gotten in enough scrapes with them that I would have recognised them. He smiled weakly, then noticed Dean, Seamus, and the twins. I take it you guys helped out too?   
  
Ron nodded. Dean and Seamus helped patch you up, and Fred and George helped us look around Gryffindor to see what we could find out. Ron bit his lip; he would mention the splinter later, in private, or perhaps not at all. We're pretty certain that one of the attackers was one of our sixth year girls. He described her for Harry, then paused. Harry, we think Neville was one of them also.  
  
Harry's eyes widened. he asked, incredulous. But... but why?'  
  
The others only shook their heads. There's one thing for certain, Harry, Seamus said. You absolutely cannot walk around the school by yourself. I think you need to keep that invisibility cloak with you at all times, as well as that useful little map, whatever it was.  
  
The Marauders' Map? Fred hazarded. Good suggestion, Seamus.  
  
Harry smiled wryly. Somehow, I doubt preventing me from getting severely beaten was what they had in mind when they made it, don't you think?  
  
Ron grinned. We can always ask Snuffles to be sure. Or Professor Lupin.  
  
Seamus and Dean just stared. Professor Lupin _made_ that map?  
  
Harry nodded. He, my dad, my godfather, and the traitor. He stopped. If you ever see an old rat that looks like Scabbers, or a rat missing a toe, or with a silver paw, stun it immediately. That would be Wormtail, and he's a Death Eater.  
  
Seamus and Dean merely nodded.   
  
I think we'd best head towards breakfast, before the sleeping charm on Neville wears off, Hermione suggested diplomatically. Harry, get your cloak and the map like Seamus suggested. You'll have at least two of us with you at all times until further notice. Harry nodded and sat up stiffly, placing the two named items inside his school bag. His roommates gathered their own bags, and Hermione and the twins retrieved theirs from just inside the door.   
  
Let's go, then, Harry said, attempting to look braver than he felt. Carefully, he hobbled down the stairs to breakfast. His friends surrounded him at the table, and Hermione filled his plate for them. There were few others at breakfast yet, which gave the six uninjured parties the time to eat before they had to go on high alert, and search faces and glances. Harry allowed himself to relax slightly, but made a mental note to ask Remus a question after class.   
  
Ron scanned the room, his eyes narrowed. There! That Hufflepuff looked oddly at Harry, a different odd than most glances. So did that Ravenclaw there, and that one. Each of them, he noted, was scribbling down a list of potential suspects, occasionally asking each other for the name of one. They would compare notes later, and come up with a pared-down list.  
  
Defense Against the Dark Arts was first, and Remus cast a sharp look at the group of fifth year Gryffindors that lagged behind the rest. Harry seemed to be limping slightly, and the others looked as if they were hiding exhaustion. Frowning, he wondered if Harry had experienced insults over his sexuality that were more physical than verbal.  
  
At the end of class, Harry approached the professor, while Ron, Hermione, Dean, and Seamus all waited outside the door.  
  
Harry asked. When we were talking about Aurors a few weeks ago, you mentioned that some of the Aurors use a special wand holster?  
  
  
  
What I was wondering is... is that an Auror thing only, or can other people have one?  
  
Anyone that wants one can purchase one, although they can be slightly expensive. Generally, though, only Aurors use them on a daily basis.  
  
Thank you. Harry smiled and tried his best not to limp as he left the classroom.  
  
What were you asking him? Ron asked curiously.  
  
About wand holsters, Harry replied shortly. Hogsmeade weekend on Saturday, and I'm going to get one, even if it means having to Floo to Diagon Alley. His voice was firm, and the others immediately sensed that they would get no where if they attempted to argue.  
  
  
  
The next day, Friday, carried a reply from Sirius, stating that he would be at the Shrieking Shack during the afternoon the next day, and he wanted to talk to Harry. On Saturday morning, Harry got up early, and ate quickly before leaving for Hogsmeade. With a bit of searching, he was able to find a wand holster, and he paid premium price for the best one available. Satisified, he strapped it on over his jumper, under his robes, and made the appropriate modification to his robes. Like an Auror, he could pull his wand in seconds, but also like an Auror, few people would able to discern that. Furthermore, the holster would protect his wand from breakage. Satisified, Ron and Hermione accompanied him to the Shrieking Shack, then waited just down the road.  
  
Hello, Sirius, Harry said softly. Sirius jumped up and hugged his godson tightly, then stopped when Harry winced.  
  
What's wrong? he asked, concerned.  
  
I was attacked again, Harry said slowly. Right after I sent that letter to you. Ron, Hermione, Dean, and Seamus were up most of the night patching me up, but I still have a sprained ankle and a broken wrist. He grimaced.   
  
Sirius spent the rest of the afternoon talking with Harry about various ways to protect himself, and he managed to mend Harry's sprained ankle, at least. Both were sure to avoid the topic of Harry's father, however.  
  
  
  
Severus Snape had been in a foul mood ever since his son had shoved that article in his hand. Merlin, it had been a shock! Not to mention he had always been faintly disgusted by homosexuals. He had been angry, shocked, embarassed, and, yes, disgusted to learn that his son was gay. It had been quite a shock to discover that Harry was even his son, and then he had been so damn proud of the fact, and he... he had to take all of it away, all of the pride, the joy even. He wouldn't deny that he loved his son, but he was so hurt and ashamed. He didn't know when he would be able to have a conversation with Harry again. Knowing that the boy carried the Snape name... if there was a segment of wizarding society that was clearly homophobic, it was the Slytherins. After all, a pureblood line can't continue unless the members of it have offspring. Oh, certainly, there was the occasional black sheep, but Severus was the only male Snape of his generation, and Harry his only offspring. It meant the end of the Snape line, a line which had been proud and distinguished. And despite the fact that he wanted to get past that fact, he just couldn't. Not yet, at least.  
  
  



	11. Soul-Searching/Investigations

_A/N: Yea! Severus is getting a clue in this chapter. I was going to include a Harry/Sev conversation in this chapter, but the chapter just kept growing, so it'll be next chapter.   
Thank you all for all the wonderful, wonderful reviews!!!_  
  
_A/N2: Thanks to Shades for pointing out I typed Draco' for Dean' at one point. That's fixed now. Goes to show how I ship, eh? Can't keep that icy Slytherin out for long... oh... and he'll be back next chapter. Ah... love Draco. Harry/Draco love....  
  
_  
  
Remus's sharpened werewolf senses had come in handy int he past. Sunday morning brunch turned out to be another one of those occasions. He looked up as a group of Gryffindor fifth years walked in, and frowned slightly as he noticed the guarded, somewhat suspicious expressions on their faces. What was ood, however, made his eyes narrow.  
  
Harry's right hand was playing nervously along his chest, resting in more or less the same area overall in the long run. Remus looked closer, and saw that Harry's robes looked slightly altered near the crest.  
  
Wait! Why was Harry even wearing his school robes on a Sunday to begin with?  
  
The Defense Against the Dark Arts professor let himself think back over the events of the past week or so – after the full moon, Harry had told him about the article in _Witch Weekly_, as well as Sev's reaction to his son's forced coming out. Harry had also mentioned the verbal insults he was taking. Then, after class on Friday, the very next day, Harry had asked that odd question about wand holsters. Wand holsters?!?  
  
He turned back to look closer at Harry then, and gasped slightly when his sudden suspicions were confirmed. A fourth year Hufflepuff had sneered as he approached the group, and all five pulled their wands. harry had pulled his the quickest – from a wand holster. Harry had just replaced his wand when Sev entered the hall and sat down beside Remus.  
  
Good morning, Remus, he greeted his former classmate congenially.  
  
Hello, Sev, Remus replied, his tone somewhat distant. Then he shook his head as if to clear it, and turned to the older man. Sev, is there any new threat from Voldemort?  
  
he replied, surprised. Why do you ask?  
  
Well, I was wondering because Harry's friends all pulled their wands on that Hufflepuff a few moments ago, and Harry's carrying his in a wand holster, Remus explained.  
  
Severus's eyebrows shot upwards. Why would they pull their wands on another student?  
  
Remus set his tea down slowly and looked cautiously at the other man. he began gently, I know you aren't fond of the topic, from what Harry said, but he's been putting up with a fair amount of verbal abuse since that article was printed last week. I'm merely concerned that he may be fearing physical violence.  
  
Severus blanched. He had been so worked up over his own reaction, he had failed to truly consider the impact on his son. Worse yet, he had been completely unaware that any verbal abuse was taking place. He put his head in his hands. Was he really such a failure as a father?  
  
Severus went back to his chambers to do some significant soul-searching immediately after his plate was clear. He closed the door and locked it both manually and magically before adding a few select wards. He most definitely did NOT want to be disturbeed. He had to come to at least an intermediate solution. He realised, when he pulled himself from his self-absorption long enough to look, that Harry had been uncharacteristically sober during the remainder of the week. Severus didn't flatter himself enough to think he was the sole cause of his son's change in demeanor; truth be told, it was the major cause, however much Severus didn't believe it. Still, he did acknowledge, upon reflection, that his reaction could not have helped.  
  
What was the issue? That Harry was gay, or that other people knew his son was gay? While different, they were distinctly different in some ways. Severus pondered the question for some time, and concluded that for him, at least for now, both were issues. So. He would have to consider them separately.  
  
Issue number one: Harry, his son, was gay. Unless major strides in human reproduction were made, this meant Harry would never have any children that were biologically his, thus signalling the end of the Snape line.  
  
Severus brought his head up sharply. Four months ago, he had thought himself was the end of the Snape line, accepting that he would not be having any children, biological or otherwise. Then he had found out that he was Harry's father, and... and what? Suddenly carrying on the Snape bloodline had become important to him? He expected his son to do what he would not? He shook his head angrily and growled. Maybe that didn't really matter to him. After all, Harry might adopt, passing on the Snape name. If not, at least the last member of the Snape line would be a distinguished one, one to be proud of.  
  
Then, Severus turned to his own feelings towards homosexuality. He had always thought it vaguely replusive; a dirty, hidden thing that some depraved individuals resorted to in the absence of available female companionship. Harry's case, however, made him reconsider this view. Harry could certainly have his pick of girlfriends; he _was_ still the Boy Who Lived, after all. Perhaps... perhaps it truly was something predetermined, rather than the notion of choice he had always thought it to be. Certainly, his interactions with Black and the werewolf had led him to that conclusion, although he was able to quash his repugnance enough to be friendly with Lupin. Still, why would Harry choose such a lifestyle? Severus could only conclude it was _not_, in Harry's case, a choice.  
  
Severus could not, not matter how heartless he seemed, hold an irreversible fact over his son's head. He would have to suppress his own views of homosexuals for the time being, and work through them privately, so that they did not affect his son. A forced coming out, and what was probably a messy break-up, could not be easy for any fifteen year old, much less for one who carried the burdens that Harry did.  
  
Severus groaned. How could he have been so insensitive to his son? Regardless of his own feelings, he should have been there for Harry! He nearly beat his head on the table in frustration. One month on the job, and he was making quite a muddle out of it!  
  
  
  
Meanwhile, Harry was surrounded by Ron, Hermione, Dean, Seamus, and the twins in Gryffindor's common room. It was time to compare notes and figure out who was behind the attack. Unfortunately, there was more than one suggestion on how best to proceed – widely different suggestions at that.  
  
Ron, Fred, and Seamus favored brewing, stealing, or buying Veritaserum, adminstering it to Neville, and questioning him on who was involved.  
  
Hermione and Dean, on the other hand, did not think Veritaserum was an option at all, and wanted to simply compare note, find out alibis and whereabouts, and observe, observe, observe.  
  
Currently, Harry and George were attempting to advocate a middle ground. That is, compare notes, find out people's alibis and whereabouts as much as possible, but veritaserum handy if needed.  
  
After hours of discussion, the compromise position was finally agreed upon, and lists of potential attackers were brought out and compared. There were some surprises in store, however, when Harry shared his opinions.  
  
No, Fred, George, cross off Malfoy and his minions, add Parkinson.  
  
The twins were astounded.  
  
Malfoy hasn't made a single comment to me about this, Harry explained, and we've had enough scrapes with the three of them that their shapes and voices would have been recognisable. Pansy, on the other hand, has been awful, and I don't think she's incapable of it.  
  
Hermione, who was recording the compiled list, merely nodded and made the suggested changes.  
  
Add Finch-Fletchley, McMillian, and Bones, Harry instructed a few moments later, earning him a few more odd looks.  
  
asked Fred curiously.  
  
Ex-boyfriend and his two best friends, Harry said with a shrug. I gave him a black eye earlier in the week, for the article. Could be payback.  
  
Hermione frowned. More than a payback, by far, but I'll add them.  
  
The completed list of preliminary suspects had seventy names on it. Luckily, Ravenclaw had had Quidditch practise at the time of the attack, and so four names were eliminated. Hermione left to get the detention rosters from Filch and McGonagall – as a Prefect, the request wasn't all that unusual – and Seamus and Dean went to visit Madam Pomfrey, in case any of the suspects had been safely ensconced in the Hospital Wing at the time. George volunteered to bring up some food from the kitchens, leaving Fred, Ron, and Harry staring at their list.  
  
What are we going to do when we know who it is? Harry asked quietly.  
  
Fred responded coolly. Subtle, not overt, and not all at one time, but repercussions nonetheless. George and I already started on Longbottom, although no one else will likely notice the difference.  
  
inquired Ron, his interest raised.  
  
Fred nodded. He's actually been less clumsy this year, but not for the next nine days, ten hours and forty-five minutes. It has to seem random, he explained to their bewildered looks. Also, he'll emit a faint suggestions to dock points at the slightest opportunity. George and I agreed not to prank for the same amount of time – a week – so that we don't mess up our own standings.  
  
Harry was impressed, and told Fred so. Remind me never to get on your bad side, he added with a laugh, and Ron and Fred joined in.  
  
  
  
Severus moved on to issue number two: the fact that others, that the whole wizarding world by now, knew that Harry, *his* son, was gay. The realisation hit him like a ton of bricks: he was deeply ashamed. Ashamed of his son, and ashamed to be identified in any way with what he had always perceived as a perverstion.  
  
Then he was more ashamed; ashamed of being ashamed. Harry had been so thankful when he had discovered that he had a living parent that was proud of him, and he, Severus, and removed that from him. No wonder the boy appeared so disconsolate! He was confusing pride with love, and was most likely convince that he was unworthy of love. Severus had seen the same before, especially, in his experience, among orphans. Good one, Severus, he told himself. You really bungled this up royally!  
  
Twist and turn things though he might, Severus could not escape that his reactions were based primarily on shame. The knowledge had not gone completely public before that article that Harry was, indeed, his son, and he had somehow anticipated feeling rather proud when the news finally hit the wizarding community. Instead, it had been buried in a poorly written exposé of Harry's private life. Severus grimaced. He was so selfish, so self-absorped! He had been more upset about the damage the revelations would do to his own status, his own reputation, that he had failed to consider Harry at all. Harry, who for everything he had gone through, was still not an adult!  
  
He did love the boy, he acknowledged that fact, but the instant after he thought it, he realised that Harry had no idea he felt that way. His letter had no doubt made things worse. At the time... at the time it was tit for tat. He was humilated, so he would make sure that Harry didn't feel any better. Merlin, what an assine, juenvile thing to do! He had been alone, truly alone for so long. Had he really lost the ability to be compassionate, to care about someone else?  
  
It was sometime later before Severus came to the conclusion that he would talk to Harry after his Potions class the next morning. He needed to apologise, as foreign as that was to Severus. He had to make sure Harry knew that he still had his father's love... if he had ever realised he had it in the first place. Oh, you _do_ know how to muck things up, Severus, he chided himself.  
  
  
  
The list was narrowed down, after the afternoon's excursions, to forty-two names, spread amongst the four Houses. Casual inquiry, they hoped, would narrow down the Gryffindors. All of them hoped that two participants was all Gryffindor had supplied.  
  
Harry was beginning to feel some pain in his ankle again; he concluded that, between Sirius having to use Harry's wand, barely remembering the spell, and being out of practise, the healing spell had not taken properly. Harry hobbled upstairs where Dean rewrapped it and Ron helped Harry to shower while still keeping his balance as well as his cast dry, as he had since the attackers. After dinner and some time spent on homework (at Hermione's insistence), the seven assembled again, this time in the fifth year boys' dormitory. Seamus kicked Neville out so subtly that Neville thought himself volunteering to leave.  
  
Here's the tally, then, Hermione said briskly, all business. Twelve potentials in Hufflepuff, five remaining to check in Gryffindor, two confirmed in Gryffindor, six potentials in Ravenclaw, and nine in Slytherin. Fred, George, you'll need to engineer the procurement of Veritaserum.  
  
The twins nodded seriously. One of the people we've been talking to, about distribution for the shop, runs a brisk trade in potions on the side. I think we can get Veritaserum from him fairly quickly. It won't be cheap, but we can handle.  
  
The others frowned at the last statement, but Harry reminded silent and struggled not to smile. Fred and George had plenty of money – his investment, plus their profits from the summer and the tidy business they had going within Hogwarts itself.  
  
Hermione then turned to the rest of the list. Dean, you said you thought you could deal with the remaining Gryffindors tonight?  
  
Dean nodded. Actually, I think I'll head back downstairs now and see what I can find out. I'm nice and unobtrusive, you know, so people don't think it's odd to tell me things. He grinned self-mockingly as he headed out the door.  
  
How are we going to check the other Houses? Seamus asked. Is there anyone we can actually trust to ask in any of them?  
  
Surprisingly, yes, Harry said with a wry grin, as he pulled out a few sheets of parchment. I have a few people offering to be my rebound guy. Two Ravenclaws, who I've never seen near each other, so they can each check out the same ones, and even if one's a fake, the other shouldn't be. Only one Hufflepuff, but, surprisingly, three Slytherins. The Slytherins, of course, didn't sign their real names, because most of the House is extremely homophobic.  
  
If they're so homophobic, why hasn't Malfoy said a word? Ron wondered.  
  
Harry laughed. I wondered that myself at first, Ron, but I think I finally hit on an answer.  
  
The others looked at him blankly. Isn't it obvious? He must be either gay or bi himself.  
  
The others just stared at Harry dumbfoundedly before Hermione began nodding slowly. You're right, Harry, that does make sense. I'm sure Daddy Dearest hasn't a clue, either.  
  
Harry shook his head. I'm sure. But that's part of the reason I'm sure neither he nor his goons were involved in any of this. Malfoy especially can't take the risk that things would turn around and blow up in his face later.  
  
There was a general consensus of agreement and then the others helped Harry draft letters to his potential informants in the other Houses. Seamus, Ron, and the twins left then to go to the Owlery, and Harry stayed seated on his bed with Hermione.  
  
Harry, how are you really doing? I know that you've gone through worse, but this still had to be a rough week for you.  
  
Harry pursed his lips and frowned before nodding slightly. I can't deny that. I just wish... I mean, I talked to Sirius some, and that helped, and you lot are great, of course, but I do wish my dad hadn't reacted that way.  
  
Hermione smiled sadly. Maybe it was all just too much of a shock for him, she offered. I'm sure he'll come around eventually.  
  
They were interrupted then by Dean returning from the common room. You can mark off the other five Gryffindors, but put down a definite for McMillian. I overhead Parvati saying that she was supposed to meet him for a study date last Thursday and he was almost an hour late, and when he got there, he looked like he had been in a fight.  
  
Hermione made the appropriate notations on their list and then stood. I think I'll head back to my dormitory now, if you're going to be in here, Dean.  
  
Dean nodded. Not a problem. The others should be back up soon, too.  
  
Harry slowly dressed in his pajamas, and was just lying down when Ron and Seamus returned. G'night, Ron, Seamus, Dean, he called sleepily.  
  
they chorused, and Harry forgot his problems in sleep.


	12. Secrets Never Stay Hidden Forever

_A/N: Long awaited waking up for Severus. A small peak into Draco's mind. And a very small bit into the continuing investigation. Insolent Harry. Concerned-father Severus. Lustful Draco. Yummm._  
  
  
  
Monday morning again. Harry dressed slowly and went to the Potions classroom. His father ignored him during class, which had been his standard operating procedure. That way, he couldn't be said to favor Harry or to disfavor him. Harry snorted in disgust at the thought. He doesn't even want me around, he thought bitterly. I bet he's glad he came up with that plan for class before all this happened, because this way he doesn't even have to acknowledge that I exist.  
  
The end of the period came. Harry stood up and concentrated on walking towards the front of the classroom without limping or making any outward show of pain. Essays were always due on Mondays in Potions, and this Monday was no exception. He hadn't talked to his father since... since the last Monday Potions class. When he had given his father the article, and then ran out the door.   
  
Severus took a deep breath. He had to be the one to give up his pride and speak first. he began, reaching for his son's left wrist, to stop him from fleeing. Several things happened at once. He encountered not flesh, but something hard and rough. He started to speak. Sweet Merlin, what is – and Harry yelled quite loudly. There were a few students remaining, and Ron whirled around when he heard Pansy Parkinson snicker and then whisper something to Millicent Bulstrode with a knowing smile on her face. He turned back to Hermione and told her, causing her to immediately pull out their list and make a notation. Then Severus saw all the remaining students and shooed them out of the classroom.  
  
Harry, what is going on? he asked, his tones controlled and careful.  
  
I don't know what you mean, Harry replied cautiously.  
  
Severus scowled, and retrieved his wand from his desk drawer, where he kept it safe during class. _Finite Incantem_, he recited, wand pointed at his son. Then he pulled back Harry's left sleeve, exposing the cast. What is this?  
  
It's called a cast, Harry explained wearily. A Muggle way of healing... of healing broken bones.  
  
You have a broken arm? Severus asked, eyes wide. Why didn't you go to Madam Pomfrey?  
  
Don't you know that would only make it worse? Harry said bitterly. Harry Snape, the pouf, running to the professors as soon as anyone touches him? Next time could be even worse.  
  
Even worse? Harry Snape, what are you not telling me?  
  
Harry snapped. He pulled up his trousers to reveal the wrapped ankle. I sprained my ankle too. Hermione couldn't heal either of those, she didn't know the spells.  
  
Does that mean that Hermione did heal something else?  
  
Harry remained silent. He was _not_ going to give in. His father didn't give a damn, and he certainly wasn't going to parade his injuries around in front of him to analyze clinically.  
  
Severus stepped back slightly and took a look at his son, then sighed. It was apparent that Harry really didn't think that he cared at all. he said more softly, let me assure you that I do in fact care about you and your injuries.  
  
Why? So that your gay son isn't your injured gay son, so that you don't feel so guilty about turning me away?  
  
Severus's face dropped. I suppose I deserved some part of that, but it doesn't give you the right to address me in that manner. I was wrong in my... initial response to you.  
  
And it took me getting beat up for you to realise it. Isn't that just bloody wonderful.  
  
Severus winced inwardly. I told you, you cannot address me in such a manner! I am your father _and_ your professor.  
  
Harry stared at him. He closed and locked the door, then began taking off his uniform. You want to see what they did to me? Don't worry, the bruises from the first time are all healed. He pulled his sweater over his head. That was just a busted lip, a black eye, and a few kicks. Now he dropped his pants. I don't think any of the cuts on my legs were bad enough to leave a scar. Then he unbuttoned his shirt and slowly took it off, revealing half-dozen new, red scars from the knife gashes he had received. And that's just what's still visible, he added quietly. I really don't know how bad it was, you'd have to ask Ron, Hermione, Seamus, or Dean.  
  
Severus blached visibly and reached down to his desk to steady himself. he breathed softly. Oh Harry... why didn't you tell me? Or someone? This... this is criminal, just from what I've seen here.  
  
Harry shrugged. We don't know who did it. Or, at least, we don't know all of who did it. We know a lot more about who didn't do it, though.  
  
You're investigating? Severus's eyebrows rose. Why am I not surprised, he asked rhetorically. Very well. I expect yourself and anyone aware of these events to come down to my office after dinner. ALL of them, Harry.  
  
Harry sighed. Father or no, he still knew you didn't mess with Severus Snape. Yes, sir. After pulling his uniform back on, he hurriedly limped his way to his next class.  
  
  
  
That afternoon, Harry took the obliging Ananda back to the greenhouses with him for Herbology, where she captured three rats that Harry examined before she ingested them. Justin was aware of the change in assignment and kept casting glares at Harry as he worked with the Devil's Snare. What Harry didn't breathe to a soul was that he had given the plant some particularly violence-inducing charmed food when he came to class early, and Justin would find that he would have difficulty with the plant until at least the Christmas holidays. Harry chuckled inwardly as he worked with Ron and Hermione on their own relatively docile Devil's Snare, along with the boringly predictable aloe plant, and Ron and Hermione's gillyweed. Thank goodness he stilll had Ron and Hermione, no matter what the rest of the world seemed to throw at him.  
  
Just before dinner, the group of seven met to share what they had unearthed during the day, and the list of suspects was narrowed down even more. Then, sighing, Harry told them of their upcoming audience with his father.  
  
Er, I don't know if you were still around, Dean, Seamus, and I know you weren't, Fred and George, but my father stopped me after Potions today, and he stopped me by putting his hands on my wrist. My left wrist. The others' eyes widened. He wants all of us to go to his office this evening right after dinner.  
  
Ron's eyes widened. Harry, I know he's your father and all, but you're asking to voluntarily spend time with Snape!  
  
Harry sighed. No, I'm not. The request, if you want to call it that, came from him, not me, and it's not exactly optional, according to him.  
  
The others sighed darkly as they trooped down to dinner, Hermione toting a book with her, as always. I decided to read up on more advanced magical healing, she explained to Harry's curious look at the title. Apparently, you can't get much beyond what I did without having some innate talent in the field – which I don't think I have. I'm interested, though, on how to recognise the talent in others, because I think Seamus may have it, she added in a quiet tone.   
  
Harry smiled. Are you going to tell him?  
  
Hermione shook her head. Not until I'm reasonably certain. Harry merely nodded understandingly and filed the tidbit of information away. As they got older, each of his friends was showing particular talents in one or two areas specifically – and Harry was enjoying watching them unfold, in an odd sort of way. It was a privilege, he reflected.  
  
  
  
The seven trouped down to Severus's office immediately following dinner, Harry opening the door and telling the others to settle in while they waited. He knew from experience that his father hated to have people idling about' his door.  
  
The door slammed open and Severus whisked into the room, closing the door rapidly behind him and settling himself at his desk. Very well, then, let us begin. Miss Granger, would you begin with your version of events?  
  
Hermione nodded, lips pressed together tightly. Last Thursday evening, Ron and I were concerned when Harry hadn't returned to the Tower after his evening meeting with Professor Lupin. We knew... we knew he wasn't meeting with you, sir, as was his custom. A bit after curfew, we used... a map of the school to locate him.  
  
A map? Severus's tone was incredulous.  
  
Er, I'll tell you later, Harry interjected. Go on, Mione, don't worry about it.  
  
Nodding, Hermione continued. It shows the location of people with a black dot. Harry's dot... Harry's dot was flickering. Seamus woke up and accompanied us to get Harry. We brought him back to his bed, and began to heal him. Dean and Seamus worked on removing the magical traces, and Ron assisted me with the physical wounds.  
  
Mr. Weasley? Anything you would add?  
  
We didn't wake up Neville to help. Because Seamus said he had been gone for a bit during the evening and his knuckles were scraped. And... there's one other thing. That only I know, and I haven't told Harry yet, so it'd be best if the others waited outside.  
  
Understandingly, the others left quickly, and Ron turned to Harry, sadness in his eyes. Harry, I was the one that cleaned you off, and changed you. You understand? At Harry's nod, he continued. The reason we were able to determine our other definite was because she left behind a splinter off her wand. Harry's eyes widened. Harry... it was... I found it underneath your...  
  
Harry gasped. Oh God... no, don't say it, Ron... oh God... they didn't...  
  
Severus's last reserves were broken down and he was torn between the need to comfort his son and murderous rage towards the perpetrators of this crime. The sight of his sobbing son drew him back to the here and now, and he got up from behind his desk and drew Harry into his arms. He frowned sadly and looked at Ron. Thank you, Mr. Weasley, he said softly, not a trace of his usual sarcasm. You have shown maturity beyond my wildest expectations tonight. I will not forget it. Thank you.  
  
Harry stopped sobbing and wiped his eyes, cleaning himself off and straightening his robes. Thank you, he said quietly, intending the message for both of his companions, and both merely nodded. The others can return now.  
  
The others filed back in, expressions curious, but respectfully silent. Severus finally spoke. I assume that you have your own plans for discovering the culprits? All of them nodded. And why do I think that you two have plans for subtly paying them back? he addressed the Weasley twins. They nodded. Very well. Continue as you are, but I will need a copy of the list of perpatrators when you have compiled what you think is a complete list. I will go to Professor Dumbledore then. They must be punished. Harry, you are a smart boy, and your friends have been protecting you. Continue for a time; it will get better. The rest of you may leave. Harry, if you would stay for a bit?  
  
Harry remained sitting as the others left. I do have Quidditch practise, he started uncertainly, but Severus waved him off.  
  
Nonsense. You can't fly like that anyway, and Mr. Weasley would be put in the position of not allowing you to fly without allowing why. Far better for you to simply miss practise, with my excuse note.   
  
Harry nodded. Should I leave, then?  
  
Merlin, no! We still need to talk... I need to apologise.  
  
Startled, Harry sank deeper into his chair and nodded.  
  
  
  
Draco Malfoy had taken over a chair in an isolated, darkened portion of the Slytherin common room. He had noticed Pansy's nearly triumphant look at Harry's expression of pain at the end of Potions class. There was another problem, that he had to call him _Harry_ now, because Professor Snape was simply Snape, and Harry was a Potter no longer. Draco shook his head irritably. This wasn't helping the question. Draco wasn't a fool; he knew what happened to openly gay wizards, at least in some segments of wizarding society. Likely Harry had had some idea as well, or he wouldn't have been hiding it. So he guessed that Harry had been beaten up for his sexual orientation, especially given the behaviors of some of the other Gryffindorks. He also was willing to bet that Snape was going to find out now, and that things wouldn't be pleasant for Pansy or any other members of Slytherin House that were found to have participated in whatever had occured.  
  
Then there was the fact that Harry _was_ attractive, in a tall, dark, Snape-y sort of way, combined with those green eyes. Draco had always told himself he disliked Harry, he acted like he hated Harry, but the truth was, he envied Harry. And now, he envied whoever had had the opportunity to write that article for _Witch Weekly_. The bravery of a Gryffindor, the way that Harry threw himself totally into whatever he did, combined with the bloodline of a Snape. The Potions professor was fairly passionate, even if it was solely about potions. Draco shuddered. He lusted for Harry Snape; that much he understood.  
  
  
  
Harry stood up finally, spent. He and his father had just spent the past three hours talking about Harry being gay, the relationship he had been in, how to handle the aftershocks, and, most embarassingly, safe sex. Harry had, horrified, tried to explain that he had _not_ had sexual intercourse, he wasn't planning to in the next few months, and, besides, he could easily get the information he needed from books or someone with same-gender experience. Severus had been much relieved and quickly let the matter drop.  
  
Overall, Harry was much happier when he left his father's office, but stopped short when he stepped into the hall, safely wrapped in his invisibility cloak. There, on the cold stone floor, were his friends, all of them, waiting for him to finish so that they could walk back to Gryffindor Tower. He smiled as he took off the cloak. Hey, you lot. I did have the invisibility cloak with me.  
  
They all jumped up. We know, but we needed time to go over what we've learned today some place private, Seamus said. Here was as good as any. The others nodded enthusiastically, and Harry had to grin.  
  
C'mon. Let's get back to the Tower, it's late. Almost as one, the seven friends headed out of the dungeons and up towards Gryffindor Tower, Harry happily _walking_ beside them as his father had been able to finally heal the sprained ankle. They were in such a large group that the attack group Pansy Parkinson had gathered decided not to attack, and Harry nor the others realised how close he came to being assaulted yet another time.  
  
  



	13. Friends and Enemies and Something In Bet...

_Tis here, now that we're back up and running, at least somewhat, eh? I still don't own Harry Potter, this is still containing slash, and I'm still just as tired as I was when I woke up this morning. Oh, yes, and thank you to all my reviewers. :-)_  
  
  
  
Draco Malfoy was in something of a quandary. Pansy had organised another group to go and beat up Pot– _Harry_ earlier in the evening, but she had returned looking disappointed, and he could only conclude that she had failed. He stewed for most of the evening as he ostensibly was researching potions. An observant person would have realised that he had not, in fact, read more than two or three pages, but by fifth year, Draco had made sure that his Housemates knew it was not prudent to be too observant when it came to Draco Malfoy, so no one was aware of his preoccupation.  
  
He should tell Harry, or Professor Snape. Harry was a Snape. He should have been in Slytherin – did that fool Dumbledore hex the Sorting Hat, perhaps? Slytherins shouldn't, didn't cross other Slytherins or their families. Professor Snape was their head of House! Harry had to have been injured relatively seriously if he had cried out in pain after potions. It also indicated, though, that he had had one of his friends heal him, rather than Madam Pomfrey, which suggested that Professor Snape might not even know. Draco couldn't tell him, then. He had to tell Harry, but how?  
  
He frowned and took out a piece of parchment.  
  
_Parkinson's bragging about beating you up. She tried again tonight, but it seems she failed. Bulstrode knows but isn't in on it. I won't say more, not yet.  
  
Does your father know? Nod here, someone will be watching you discreetly. Tell him about Parkinson, if he already knows about the attack(s?). Slytherins don't cross other Slytherins or their families. And some of us are gay or bisexual, too.  
  
How badly were you hurt, anyway?  
  
_He continued to frown as he read over what he had written. He hurried out of the common room and up to the Owlery, determined to send the owl before what little courage he possessed left him. He selected a gray screech owl from the available school owls and instructed it to deliver the letter to Harry Potter, just at the end of the owl post the next morning. The owl screeched its agreement and Draco berated himself for selecting such an annoying owl as he left the Owlery. He was stopped just as he stepped back inside the Slytherin common room.  
  
It was Pansy. He sighed heavily. You've been so busy lately, I haven't had a chance to tell you. Some of us taught Hogwarts' resident fag a little lesson the other night.  
  
Draco raised his eyebrows. I gathered, from your reaction to his pain after Potions today. Not very discreet, Pans.  
  
She shrugged slightly, an embarrassed half-smile on her face as she rolled her eyes lightly and moved her head from side to side. Well, I know, but he didn't notice, that's the important thing. You wouldn't believe who helped out though. I mean, we had two Gryffindors!  
  
Draco was shocked, in more ways that one. Pansy, you consorted with Muggle-loving and Mudblood scum?  
  
She scoffed. No, of course not. It was one of the pureblood girls, I think she's in sixth? And, surprizingly, Longbottom. He was most useful, knew the queer's routine. Her tone turned businesslike. Well. If you want to come along the next time, let me know.  
  
I prefer not to get involved in physical altercations, Pansy. You know that, he replied coolly. You really shouldn't either. They're beneath you.  
  
She sniffed and walked away. 'A Slytherin uses the necessary tools, no matter how distasteful,' she quoted.  
  
I hope you know what you're doing, Pans. He's still Professor Snape's son, Draco whispered as she walked away. He and Pansy had known each other since they were babies, and he often thought of her as a sister, or cousin. He didn't want to see her get burnt, no matter how ill-considered her actions were.  
  
  
  
Harry looked up in surprize as the school owl landed in front of him, and he scanned the letter quickly, his face registering some of his shock. He nodded slowly, then mouthed Very, very badly. With that, he drew out a piece of parchment and copied the letter into his own handwriting. He was sure that his father would recognise any Slytherin's handwriting, and the writer had gone to some lengths to conceal his or her identity. He finished quickly, muttered a spell at the original, causing it to crumble into confetti, and stood, walking purposefully to the front of the room, where he handed the letter to his father and raised his eyebrow before striding away.  
  
  
Draco Malfoy watched surreptitiously, confused. So. Professor Snape knew, and Harry had been hurt rather badly. But why was Harry copying the letter...? Oh! Draco nearly flushed with embarrassment when he realised that the Gryffindor was saving his skin. Professor Snape would undoubtedly have recognised Draco's handwriting. Bloody hell! he swore at himself. How could he have been so careless? And who would have thought that the other boy would have even considered the idea, much less covered his tracks. Draco shook his head. It wasn't often that a Slytherin was out-manuevered by a member of another House, but he had the distinctly uneasy feeling that it had just happened – and that it wouldn't be the last time, either.  
  
  
Severus read over the letter his son handed him, slightly surprized. He was impressed that Harry had thought to rewrite the letter before handing it to him, although he assumed that it meant the writer had been sufficiently rattled when composing it. It didn't have any real new information, but it was an interesting confirmation – as well as raising some interesting questions.  
  
  
  
  
That night, Neville was once again convinced to leave the fifth year boys' dormitory, and Hermione, Fred, and George joined the other four occupants to discuss the potential attackers. Harry was grateful for their help, but was getting a bit tired of everyone concentrating solely on his injuries. If it wasn't his scar, or something related to it, it was his newfound propensity for getting attacked. He contemplated whether to tell the others about the letter from the Slytherin or not, and still had not decided when everyone else gathered around his bed.  
  
First, how's your arm feeling, Harry? Hermione questioned. Is it hurting any less?  
  
Harry nodded. I have that potion I got last night, and it helps. Plus you set it straight, so there shouldn't be any problems. He grinned at her. Ankle's completely better now, though.  
  
There were general murmurs at that announcement.  
  
So, what have we found? Ron asked moments later.   
  
There weren't any other Gryffindors involved, Dean answered. I also ruled out a couple of Hufflepuffs, because they were with a large group of our sixth years.  
  
We know that Bulstrode wasn't in on it, but she knows about it. Harry felt the words tumble out of his mouth before he could stop them.  
  
asked Hermione, astonished.  
  
Harry shrugged uncomfortably. One of the Slytherins sent me a letter. Apparently he – or she – is bisexual or gay, and thought that since I'm Snape's son, I shouldn't be a target of Slytherins. Parkinson admitted it to him/her and Bulstrode wasn't in on the actual attack.  
  
The others just stared. A Slytherin? Helping _you_? Ron gasped out.  
  
He _is _Snape's son, Seamus said mildly. I'm surprised, really, that the Hat didn't try to put you in Slytherin, Harry.  
  
Harry just stared at Seamus, his mouth hanging open. _No one_ knew that the Hat had wanted to make Harry a Slytherin. _No one_.  
  
Seamus took in Harry's shocked expression with a single glance. Oh, sweet Merlin. I was _kidding_, Harry. I was kidding!  
  
Harry just shook his head. The Hat wasn't, he mumbled lowly, then he raised his head. Don't worry about it, Seamus.  
  
Well, I already put my notes together with Ron's and those responses you got from the Ravenclaws and the Hufflepuff, Harry. If I can combine that with Fred and George, and you, Seamus, we might just have a list, Hermione said quickly into the silence.  
  
Several moments later, Hermione looked up, and her rapidly moving quill stilled at last. I think I have a complete list. Two Gryffindors, two Hufflepuffs, one Ravenclaw, and two Slytherins. Does that fit with how many you remember, Harry?  
  
He nodded. More or less. May I see the list?  
  
Of course. She passed him the parchment, and he read over it carefully.   
  
Okay. Let's make duplicates of this, then. Fred, George, continue with your plans. Get Parkinson next. Please.  
  
They nodded. Are you going to take that to Snape tomorrow, then, Harry? Dean asked, and Harry nodded slightly.  
  
Yes. I do wonder what's going to happen.  
  
The others all nodded, then Hermione suddenly sprang up. Harry! Can you come with me for a bit? Grab the cloak and the map, we should be fine.  
  
Startled, Harry complied, and he soon found himself walking through the corridors with Hermione under the cloak. What's up, Hermione?  
  
Shh. Look, Filch is coming. We'll duck in here and then head to the kitchens.  
  
Filch strolled past, seemingly staring right at them, but he continued on without incident. Harry and Hermione hurried the rest of the way to the kitchen, where Dobby greeted them cheerfully before disappearing back into the bowels of the kitchen proper.  
  
I'm sorry to drag you out, Harry, but I wanted to talk to you about something.  
  
What about?  
  
Your father. Professor Snape. Harry, I know that you've accepted him as your father in your mind, but... I'm not so sure you really have. You either call him Professor Snape' still or that weird formal my father.' What do you do when it's just the two of you talking?  
  
Harry blinked. Hermione was right, of course; he consciously avoided having to decide what to call the man. Um... I don't. Call him anything, that is. We just... talk. Avoid titles, I suppose.  
  
Hermione said gently, I'm not trying to tell you what you should be doing. But I think that the sooner you get comfortable in _here_ – and she tapped his chest lightly – with regarding him as your dad, the better able _both_ of you are going to be to handle whatever gets thrown at you. She smiled, a trifle sadly. Nothing's ever easy for you, Harry, is it?  
  
agreed Harry ruefully. And you're right. I need to figure out what to call him. I'll talk to him tomorrow.  
  
Hermione's face brightened. Good. Now, c'mon, I know you have plenty of studying to take care of!  
  
Harry chuckled. Same old Hermione. We'd best get some desserts, though, if we're already down here.  
  
  
  
Harry approached his father was some trepidation the next day. Er, I was wondering if we could talk for a moment. In your office.  
  
Slightly surprised, Severus nodded. I have a few moments free right now.  
  
They entered the office and Severus shut the door behind them before sitting down. After he sat down, he stood back up. You must feel like you're coming in for a detention, he remarked as he walked around and sat in the chair opposite Harry's.  
  
Er, well, sometimes, Harry admitted with a small smile. He took a deep breath. Last night, Hermione pointed out to me that, well, I really don't _call_ you anything. Except maybe Er,' but that's just circumstantial. And, well, I don't really know what to call you. Or what you even want me to call you. Because Professor' sounds rather stilted. But... Harry trailed off. I just don't know.  
  
Severus nodded slightly. I can understand your confusion. To be frank, I am not as self-assured on this matter as you might suppose me to be. I know that it seems awkward at this time, but I think we would both hate to feel this awkward in twenty years.  
  
The awkwardness must be dealt with head-on, is what you're saying, Harry responded slowly, his head nodding unconsciously.  
  
Precisely. I suggest you come up with whatever name you would feel most comfortable calling me, and we'll go from there. Although... I don't know that Severus or some form of it would be the most appropriate, all things considered.  
  
Harry stood. I nearly forgot – here is the list, as near as we can determine it. You might want to bring in the four that we don't have confirmation on, and question them. I don't know. We're pretty confident about the Gryffindors and Parkinson, though.  
  
Severus nodded slowly. I must commend you and your friends, Harry. Normally your impulse would be to suspect Mr. Malfoy, but you have avoided that throughout.  
  
Harry shrugged uncomfortably. I would have _known_ if he or Crabbe or Goyle had been there. You know? We probably know each other better than we'd like to admit. And he hasn't been... oh sweet Merlin!  
  
What is it, Harry?  
  
Do you have any of Malfoy's old tests or essays here?  
  
Surprized, Severus nodded and pulled one out of a drawer. Here. Why, what's wrong?  
  
Harry stared at the parchment unbelieving for a long moment before he raised his gaze and took in the sight of his father in front of him. Malfoy wrote that letter.  
  



	14. Draco Malfoy?

_A/N: It's here, it's here, it's really really here! I present to you the final chapter of _Blood and Water._ I apologise for ending it here, but it seemed like a natural stopping point. Some day I may be persuaded to write a sequel, but for now I have far too many fics going, and I need to finish this one up. Also, aside from finishing up this story and _Olympia_, all my fics will only be posted at my website (http://salazar.patchfire.org) and at FictionAlley (http://www.fictionalley.org). That's not to say that one might not be archived somewhere else, but they will not be posted here on ff.net.   
  
Disclaimer: Everything Harry belongs to Joanne. I'd love to have Harry & Draco, but alas I can only borrow them for a while.  
  
  
_  
Draco Malfoy? Severus repeated, incredulous. I seriously doubt that, Harry.  
  
It's the same handwriting, Harry insisted. I realise it sounds incredible, but it's the same handwriting.  
  
Severus shook his head firmly. While I believe that you think it to be the same handwriting, I cannot believe that Mr. Malfoy would attempt to help any fellow student, much less you. His lip curled upwards in a sneer. It has been a pleasure to give that little brat the type of treatment he has always deserved this year.  
  
Harry bit his lip but didn't say a word. No matter what his father said, he was certain that he was right. It made sense in light of everything else. Malfoy wasn't one to pass up the chance to taunt Harry in any way possible, and recent events had surely been enough if anything ever was. He merely shrugged and handed the essay back to his father. Well, perhaps someone charmed their handwriting. Though there really aren't all that many people who could do that, either.  
  
Severus accepted the parchment without a word, but nodded his assent. There was silence for a long period in the office. I'd better get on to class, then, Harry said finally, but he had resolved to corner Malfoy sometime in the near future.  
  
Of course. Do you have your cloak? You need to be careful.  
  
Harry rolled his eyes but smiled. Yes, I have it. I'll see you later, then.  
  
Harry swept the invisibility cloak around him and hurried to Transfiguration, his mind spinning. _Obviously Father doesn't think much about Malfoy. I'll have to be sure and not let on that I'm going to talk to him about this._  
  
Harry dropped into his seat and smiled briefly at Ron and Hermione, who looked as if they were about to interrogate him. Luckily, Professor McGonagall called the class to order then, and Harry was able to shrug off most of their questions when class ended. Transfiguration was their last class of the day, and he paused in the hallway. I'm going to take a walk. Yes, _with_ the invisibility cloak, Hermione, he added to forestall her burgeoning protests.  
  
His two best friends just shook their heads as Harry disappeared. After about ten minutes, he headed up to Gryffindor Tower, exchanging his schoolbag for the Marauders' Map, which he had accidentally left on his bedside table that morning. He trooped back out of the tower without anyone noticing, and he paused a corridor away to activate the map. _I solemnly swear I am up to no good_.  
  
He scanned the map, first checking the Slytherin common rooms, before turning his attention to the rest of the school. Finally he spotted the dot labeled Draco Malfoy' - thankfully alone - in an out of the way corner of the library. He cleared the map and strode quickly towards the library. He reached the dark corner some ten minutes later, and he quietly removed his invisibility cloak and put up a cloaking charm before speaking.   
  
Draco's head snapped up, and his eyes narrowed. What are you doing here? he asked coolly.  
  
I wanted to talk to you, Harry replied, just as coolly. Despite what everyone else may think, I'm about 99% sure you wrote that letter.  
  
Draco worked his jaw, staring at the other boy in silence for a long time before closing the book in front of him, and straightening slightly. And if I did?  
  
Harry shrugged, and dropped into a chair across from the blonde. It's interesting, then, don't you think? That you, Draco Malfoy, would offer anything but barbs to me? Personally, and here he smiled slightly, I wonder if, perhaps, my situation is, dare I say it, a little too close for comfort for you?  
  
Draco pursed his lips, remaining silent, and then finally nodded slowly. You might be correct.  
  
Which still begs the question of why you actually tried to help me.  
  
I suppose it does. He shrugged slightly. You should have been a Slytherin.  
  
So said the Hat, Harry admitted dryly.   
  
Draco looked up, slightly surprised, then smirked. God, I bet you _hated_ that.  
  
Harry had to chuckle at himself. You could say that. He shrugged. Now, of course, it makes more sense.  
  
The other boy flicked his eyes over Harry. It suits you better, he said simply, and was suprised when Harry grimaced.   
  
That's what _he_ said, too, Harry said bitterly.  
  
Draco asked sharply.   
  
Harry just nodded, not all that surprised that Draco knew the name. He bit his lip and looked around. So was the comment on my House the only answer I'm going to get?  
  
Draco smirked. Very, very good. He chuckled once. I'm not quite as much of a bastard as everyone - including your father - thinks, you know. He shrugged. I'm not a fool. I know myself well, and I know what I need to be content. I know what I'm going to have to do in a matter of years, or maybe even months, in order not to get an unwanted tattoo. He made a face. You... you're interesting. Let's leave it at that for now. With that, he stood, and left the library, leaving Harry at the table alone, his brow furrowed in thought.  
  
  
  
The next days passed in a blur of interviews, interrogations, and updates, in which Harry was kept informed but out of the limelight. Most of the school was buzzing about why some students were being pulled from classes and returning much later, eyes downcast, points removed in copious quantities from their House.  
  
It was only after the last of the culprits had been identified, interrogated, and punished that the facts of the matter were made public. Harry had talked to his father for a long time one evening, debating how much should be said, especially whether or not Justin's identity should be revealed. They had not agreed on a course of action when Harry felt his father's chambers just before curfew. He scanned the Marauders' Map with a practiced eye, noting the only person even remotely nearby was Draco Malfoy. Nearly two weeks had passed since they last spoke, and Harry made a split-second decision to alter his course in order to talk to the other boy.  
  
Draco was sitting in a shadowy alcove, writing furiously on a piece of parchment, mumbling about Transfiguration. I haven't finished my essay yet, either, Harry said in a neutral tone, causing Draco to jump.  
  
Bloody hell, Po- Sna- oh, fine! Harry! Are you trying to scare me?  
  
Wasn't my intention, no. Harry grinned. Nice bonus, though. Harry sat down cautiously across from Draco. He pursed his lips. They're going to tell the rest of the school tomorrow, about the attacks, and who's been punished. Would you tell it was Finch-Fletchley, if it were you?  
  
Draco looked up, surprised. Are you asking _me_ for advice?  
  
Harry chuckled. I suppose I am. Your opinion, at the very least.  
  
I think I would tell, Draco said slowly, although it almost admits to your evidently abysmally poor taste in men.  
  
Harry rolled his eyes. I should have known you would have to throw an insult in there somewhere. Let me see, what was wrong with him - aside from the obvious difficulties at the end, I mean. Is it that he's a Hufflepuff? Muggle-born?  
  
Draco shook his head. Of course not. The main problem with Finch-Fletchley is his _looks_. I thought you didn't need glasses anymore!  
  
Harry had to laugh. All right, I admit his hair's a little odd.  
  
A little? It's horrid. Worse than yours used to be. And that face. Draco wrinkled his nose. Not that there aren't the obvious problems of House and parentage you pointed out, of course.  
  
Of course. Harry stood. I'd best get back to the Tower before they send out a search party. He paused. You'd tell, though?  
  
Draco nodded tightly. I would. It's only fair.  
  
We just had a civil conversation, Harry noted with some irony.   
  
See? All you had to do was become a Snape! Draco responded triumphantly. Just imagine if you had let the Sorting Hat do its job properly.  
  
Harry rolled his eyes. Good night, Malfoy.  
  
It's Draco, the other boy said quietly. Good night, Harry Snape.  
  
Harry walked off, bemused by the recent turn of events, and then hastily wrapped himself in the invisibility cloak, hidden from sight. He waited, just a moment, to see if Draco would talk to himself again.  
  
I could, came the soft murmur, accomplish more than one things at a time. If he said yes, it would send a clear message to my father. I don't think he'd even want me to take the Mark after that. I'd get to have some fun and a handsome date, not to mention the name recognition. Draco stood, and Harry held his breath. Yes, I think it would be most advantageous.  
  
Harry stood for awhile, bewildered, though he was sure Draco was considering asking someone out. After a moment, he put the pieces together. _Me?!?_  
  
  
  
The next day, at lunch, the Headmaster stood and somberly informed the school of the actions of a few of its students, speaking for a time about tolerance and the need for acceptance of others' differences, not hatred. Then Harry watched as his father stood and spoke about the specific events of the last month or so, how Mr. Finch-Fletchley decided to make himself some Galleons, and how the culprits had at last been uncovered. The Hall was understandably silent, most of its occupants only vaguely aware of the events that had unfolded, and very few having any prior knowledge of the attacks or Harry's injuries. It was announced that in addition to the points removed for the perpetrators, there were several individuals who had assisted Harry and the investigation, and they and their Houses would be appropriately rewarded. Harry frowned slightly, knowing that Draco wouldn't get the recognition he deserved for his part. It couldn't be helped - his father refused to acknowledge that the blonde Slytherin could have written the letter or been anything but a perfect carbon copy of his father. Harry sighed.   
  
  
  
The next day, Harry was leaving Care of Magical Creatures, his last class of the day, when he felt a hand on his arm. He turned and saw Draco, who looked a tiny bit nervous. Can I talk to you for a moment? he said quietly.  
  
Ron scowled, while Hermione looked at Draco curiously, but Harry merely nodded, his face impassive. Sure. Go on, Ron, Hermione. I'll catch you up.  
  
Harry, are you sure?  
  
Yes, Hermione, I'll be fine. Harry smiled reassuringly, then turned back to Draco. I think she's trying to fill in as my mother sometimes.  
  
Draco bit back a laugh. I think you're right. he sobered, and bit his lip before speaking. This Saturday is a Hogsmeade weekend. If you aren't busy, or don't have plans, would you, ah, like to go with me?  
  
Harry blinked. _He moves quickly once he makes a decision, doesn't he?_ He decided to clarify things. Are you asking me on a date?  
  
Draco looked around a bit nervously, all too aware of the other Slytherins watching and eavesdropping.   
  
Harry smiled. Sure, why not? He paused. When and where should I meet you?  
  
Right inside the entrance as fine, say, ten minutes before ten?  
  
Sounds great. Harry looked at him carefully. So this definitely isn't a secret?  
  
Draco laughed. No, definitely not.  
  
  
Harry grinned. See you then, Draco.  
  
See you, Harry, Draco echoed.  
  
Harry walked briskly back up to the castle, laughing inwardly. He had decided, after overhearing Draco's conversation, to give the other boy a chance. Perhaps he had always been judged solely by his last name, and everything was interpreted in light of that. Harry had certainly experience enough of that himself. He decided to go visit his father before dinner, and turned to the dungeons.  
  
Severus said with some surprise when Harry walked in. To what do I owe this honor?  
  
Harry grinned. You said we shouldn't keep big secrets from each other anymore, so I wanted to tell you before the grapevine did - I have a date on Saturday.  
  
Severus raised one eyebrow. I hope it's not another Hufflepuff, Harry.  
  
No, it's not, Harry reassured him with a chuckle. Actually, it's a Slytherin.  
  
Severus frowned, trying to think who among his Slytherins it might could be.  
  
Harry sobered. You won't like it, he admitted. It's Malfoy.  
  
Malfoy?!? Harry Snape, are you out of your mind? His father's a Death Eater! He's a brat and probably knows more Dark Arts than any other student at this school!  
  
Harry pursed his lips. Yes, I know his father's a Death Eater. That doesn't mean Draco is. He paused, gathering his thoughts. Bloodline isn't everything. But, I have to admit, perhaps blood does determine more than we might like to think. Snapes, for instance, have a flair for the dramatic. He grinned. I've never really been Harry Potter, when you look at that way. I was never the shining Harry Potter the masses wanted, and I knew it. I was really a Snape. Harry shrugged. I know that he's using me, at least partially, to get out of becoming a Death Eater himself. But this Harry, the one that's a Snape, understands that, and doesn't care. He smiled. I have realised one thing in the past few months. I'm a lot like you, Dad.  
  
Severus stared at his son for a long moment, then nodded once, conceding. So you are, my son. So you are.  
  
  
  
  



End file.
